


Premium Well Redux

by DinasEmrys



Series: Premium Well AU [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Almost Nobody Died, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassination Plot(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Car Chases, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dating, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fingering, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Happier Ending to Attack on Beacon, Happy Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Intrigue, Non-Explicit version posted to FanFiction.net, Plot, Romance, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-01-05 07:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 158,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinasEmrys/pseuds/DinasEmrys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long mission, Yang decides she needs to get her teammates to socialize outside of other hunter teams, accidentally causing the girls to admit their feelings to each other. Unfortunately, Weiss' family and enemies both old and new may have other plans for the four young women.<br/>Classic Fluff and Lemon taste, now with extra Plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Redux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the characters are of the age of majority in this work, for obvious reasons.
> 
> To those who don't know, I have taken several months off to work on other projects and to retool this story, with this version being called the Redux . See the note after this chapter for more information on changes. A non-explicit version of this story can be found at my account with the same name on FF.net.
> 
> RWBY is the sole property of Roosterteeth and Monty Oum.

“Get down!”

Blake ducked as Ruby flew across the battlefield, her scythe mowing through one beowolf after another with inhuman speed. Moving in the faster girl’s wake, the Faunus woman whipped her shroud around her, slicing through anything foolish enough to get within reach. One last Grimm roared with impotent rage and charged, never realizing he stood no chance against two fully trained huntresses. Blake whipped the pistol of her weapon up, finger already pulling the trigger.

She needn’t have bothered. Crescent Rose slammed into the wolf from the side, coming out of nowhere to pin the mewling canine to the ground.

Blake tried to catch her breath as she scanned the carnage around them. They had just cleaned this area yesterday, wiped out the pack that settled here. While it was a long, time-consuming task, they had been fairly successful – with most of the forest wiped clear of Grimm, it shouldn’t be too long until the reclamation crew moved in. Hopefully, they’d have the outpost up within a month. All Team RWBY needed to do was clear one last stretch of woods, and yet somehow the beowolves just kept coming, oblivious to the fate that awaited them.

“You okay?” Ruby panted, biceps straining as she yanked the massive scythe out of the dirt.

“Took a hit to my shoulder. I’ll be fine.” Blake snapped her shroud back into its sheath, her wound giving off a quick burst of pain. “Think that was the last of them?”

“Probably. That should be the last group of stragglers. What happened to Yang?”

“Ran off,” Blake grimaced, “I believe her words were ‘Which one of you fuckers touched my hair?’”

Ruby sighed, running a hand through her now-unkempt bob and wincing as she pulled a twig from the mess. Three weeks on the frontier definitely hadn’t done their hygiene any favors. The younger woman’s face was smeared with dirt and sweat, and Blake had a sneaking suspicion that some of the red in Ruby’s dark hair wasn’t just her highlights.

“Why isn’t Weiss with you?”

Ruby drooped a little more, using a piece of her ragged cloak to wipe wolf blood off her beloved scythe.

“It’s ... complicated,” she muttered.

Blake sighed and went back to scanning the treeline. Weiss was always the least appreciative of their long missions – the heiress called staying in anything less than a four-star hotel ‘roughing it.’ A few nights in the woods or a long trek across Vacuo wasn’t a problem, but after three weeks of watching the white-haired girl try to maintain her normal standard of cleanliness – and listening to her gripe the entire time – Blake was about ready to strangle her teammate.

“Let me guess, you had problems communicating and she stormed off saying she’d ‘handle this by herself?’”

Ruby slumped a little more. “Not exactly.”

Her voice pitched up at the end, and Blake moved this most recent problem from the ‘Weiss’ column to the ‘Weiss and Ruby’ section of the list.

Normally, the two girls managed to keep to their ‘airhead and the long-suffering heiress’ routine, with Ruby’s still-boundless energy somewhat restrained by Weiss’ snarking. All in all, the two worked wonderfully together, which was one of the reasons they still did, even after all these years.

But recently, the gentle jabs faded as the two partners grew more and more distant. Ruby, for her part, wasn’t helping matters. The younger girl’s mood grew gloomier by the day, or at least it would until Weiss walked into the room, at which point Ruby would explode with bubbly energy, which completely failed to have the desired effect. Another month of close-quarters with Weiss’ sniping and Ruby’s sporadic brooding, and Blake wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep from smothering them both in their sleep.

A scream of rage stopped her from pressing her friend for answers, and the two girls whipped their heads around to look off towards the unmistakable cry.

“Yang,” they groaned in unison, trudging into the trees before their lovable berserker could burn the whole forest down.

* * *

Yang bobbed to the left as the taijitu struck, pounding its scaled hide with her gauntlet. Ember Celica fired, scales shattering as her shot buried itself in the monster’s hide. Grabbing onto the passing snake, Yang heaved herself up the titanic serpent, her fists pounding into the creature as she rode its back. She heard the hiss and dropped, firing upwards into its jaw as it lunged for her throat. Hitting a perfect three-point landing, she pulsed her aura as she fired, reams of flame shooting from her fists as she charged the beast.

One blast landed right in its open mouth, sending smoke wheeling up into the sky as it reeled. Not wasting her chance, Yang drove her fist as hard as she could into the ebony snake, sending it flying back into its second head. The snakes tangled and fell back as a blast of ice flew harmlessly by.

“Dammit Yang!” Weiss screamed, her concentration broken by the colliding serpents. “Stop breaking formation!”

“Then stop wasting time and kill this thing!” Yang called back, her legs already pounding through the soft earth as she rushed the distracted snakes.

The pitch-black head managed to pull itself free before she could reach it, hissing angrily and lunging for her. Yang’s blast had left the monster’s fangs black and charred, still-smoking patches mottling the ivory points. She grinned as her eyes caught the weakness, hips shifting as she cocked her fist back for one last blow. Moving just enough to avoid the blow, the blonde swung, her fist shattering the damaged bones and firing straight down the serpent’s throat.

The taijitu jerked for a moment, writhing as the fire-dust round sped down its length. With one last desperate hiss, the black half exploded, bits of snake flinging across the grove and coating Yang with blood and ooze.

Flicking the mess from her gauntlets, Yang wiped the grime from her face just in time to dodge a swipe from the still-moving white serpent. Yang rolled to side, scrambling to get behind the Grimm. She sprang forward, fists already ready to go, and fell flat on her face.

Spitting dirt from her mouth, Yang looked back to find her foot encased in a long stream of ice.

“Watch it!” she shouted, a round from her gauntlets shattering the surprisingly hard crystal.

“Then stay out of my way!”

Weiss twirled to the side, sending steams of power out at the serpent, her magical sigils letting her leap with abandon out of the monster’s way. One more crouching lunge, and Weiss flew past the remaining half, cutting a deep gash along its scales. The beast keened as her blade bit into its side, the shriek wailing through the trees and pounding against their ears.

Holding her head, Yang didn’t see the snake’s tail coming until it was too late. The bleeding stump slammed into her, knocking her back and sending her sprawling in the dirt.

Oblivious to Yang’s predicament, Weiss leapt into the air, blurring as her magic drove her blade into the jagged mess where the black head had sat. With a blast of light, Myrtenaster pinned the snake’s flesh to the ground, ice spreading to hold the monster.

The white head reared back, looming over Yang as it opened its mouth to swallow her whole. The blonde huntress grinned, her gauntlets blazing as she aimed them up into the creature’s maw.

“Don’t you dare!” Weiss screamed.

Yang fired.

The white head exploded, sending chunks and guts spinning across the area and covering the two girls in blood, bile, and dust-knows-what else. Weiss’s combat skirt hung damply to her sides, soaked with liquids Yang never wanted to know the names for. The now-headless center of the beast slammed into the ground, the shockwave knocking Weiss to her knees, adding insult to injury as the horrible mixture fused with the mud. Yang stood panting, sore and tired after the sixth fight in a row that day, barely listening as Weiss struggled to pull herself from the muck.

“What the hell is  _wrong_  with you?” the heiress screeched, flinging goop from her arms.

“It was the fastest way,” Yang shrugged, wiping as much of the grime from her weapons as she could. She’d need to field-strip them later  _–_ the last thing she needed was her gauntlets jamming on snake guts.

“If by ‘fastest,’ you mean ‘disgusting,’ then yes, it was.”

“Calm down. We’ll get you a change of clothes when we get back to camp.”

“Do you have any idea how long it will take to get  _this_ out?” she waved her hand, the liquid mess flinging from her hand to stain the forest floor.

“No longer than it would take to get taijitu poison out of your system.” Yang stood, stretching to relieve the tension that sat in her muscles. Weiss’ voice faded to mild drone as Yang tested her muscles, checking for any damage she might have missed. Her shoulder twinged as she moved, hinting at more pain to come once the muscles had time to  _really_ get mad at her. The blonde groaned at the prospect of yet _another_ injury, glad of the aura boosters they had stashed away in their medical supplies.

Letting her focus waver, she looked over at Weiss, the girl still managing to rant as she wrung the gunk from her combat skirt. She could still half-hear Weiss’ tirade, something about coordinating attack tactics.  _Don’t know what she’s complaining about – divide-and-conquer_ is _technically coordinated. Especially since_ she’s _the one who’s been ‘off’ the past couple weeks._

Sighing, Yang rose to her full height, cutting Weiss off as soon as the smaller woman stopped for breath.

“Look, let’s not bicker about who might have dumped a gallon of snake innards on whom. That’s probably the last one. A few hours and you’ll be back home, with a nice shower and all the nastiness out of your hair.”

Not waiting for an answer, Yang trudged back down the hill, thighs aching as muscles tired from non-stop fighting complained. A quiet humph carried down the slope, and the sound of heeled boots cracking loose twigs soon followed her. Settling on the high road, Yang slowed down, her legs thanking her as Weiss caught up.

“How’d you end up out here anyway?” Yang asked, half-sure she already knew the answer. “I thought you and Ruby were cleaning out the last of the beowolf pack.”

Weiss’ ears turned red. Eyes locked straight ahead, the white-haired girl just kept walking, jaw clenching and unclenching until she answered.

“We just got separated.”

“Uh huh.” Yang ignored the obvious lie, letting her pace slag as Weiss tried to put some space between them. Grinding her teeth to hold back an exasperated groan, Yang made a mental note to deal with this ... whatever it was, once they got back to civilization. This friction between the two of them had gone on long enough, and whatever was causing this constant ‘not-fighting’ needed to stop.

In all fairness, Ruby usually did a fine job as their fearless leader. She just sometimes needed a kick in the ass to get her moving when it came to Weiss.

“Yang!” A cheery voice rang through the trees, a small red form waving wildly as it ran towards them.  _Speak of the devil..._

“Ruby!” Yang called happily, arms wide for the expected hug, only to smile sheepishly when her sister recoiled from the stench. Gasping noises came from behind her as Blake ground to halt several feet away, hands clasped over her more-sensitive nose.

“Is there some new skunk-type Grimm I haven’t heard about?” the Faunus mumbled, her voice muffled by the hands covering her face.

“Just a parting gift from a taijitu,” Yang grinned as she moved farther from her partner. “Good to see you’re okay.”

“Are you alright, Weiss?” Ruby moved over to the white-haired girl, eyes watering from the smell as she gave her partner the once-over. Seeing no permanent damage, she beamed, squeezing the heiress’ shoulder affectionately.

Weiss stiffened, pulling away from Ruby and knocking more snake bits from the folds of her skirt. “I’m fine. I just need to go clean up this mess.”

“Weiss, wait up!” Ruby called, running after the older girl as Weiss marched off into the woods.

Blake and Yang stood there a moment as Weiss vanished down the trail, Ruby in hot pursuit.

“The hell’s her problem?” Yang asked, taking a few more steps away from her partner. “She hasn’t been this twitchy since our first year at Beacon.”

“You’re not exactly in a good mood yourself.”

“True,” Yang nodded. “I know we’ve all been out here too long, but still … it’s gotta be more than that. She talk to you?”

“Nope,” Blake muttered, the hand clutching her nose making her voice sound nasal. “But she’s been in bad mood since we came out here. But, it’s not as if we’re taking lilac-scented bubble baths behind her back.”

“... been holding that one back for a while, huh?”

Blinking stench-tears from her eyes, Blake shot a glance over at Yang. “Sorry. Speaking of baths, you could really use one. Or five.”

“You could always join me,” Yang said, half-joking and not entirely sure what she’d do if Blake actually said yes. It had been years since the two paired up during their first trial at Beacon. Years since she dragged her sister over to talk to the pretty, bookish girl with the bow in her hair. Years as partners and a team, and every so often, Yang entertained the thought of seeing if their partnership might become ... something else. But after all their time at Beacon and their first few years as full-fledged huntresses, the Faunus girl had yet to show any interest in pretty much anyone.

Missing the invitation, Blake clutched her nose a little tighter, cocking an eyebrow at Yang over the top of her fist. “In the interest of keeping my stomach under control, I’ll pass.”

“You know, I should make a perfume out of this,” the brawler waved her arms, sketching the imagined billboard before them. “Tired of sub-standard guys hitting on you? Try Yang’s patented douchebag repellant. The scent for any occasion when you just want to be left alone. Nose plugs not included.”

Blake chuckled softly, the sound slipping out from behind her hands. Yang grinned. It wasn’t often that she got to hear Blake’s little chime of a laugh – her puns were usually only greeted with groans and pained expressions – but she always made the best of it.

“It’s just a shame it’d never work on me,” Yang purred haughtily, flicking a few stray locks of hair back over her shoulder. “Even this odor can’t keep my admirers away.”

Her partner snorted through her hands, eyes watering as the smell managed to get to her more sensitive Faunus nose. “You’re hot, Yang. But no one is  _that_  hot.”

“Aww, you think I’m hot?”

“You literally set fire to things. The word comes to mind right after ‘stubborn’ and ‘possessing a truly terrible sense of humor.’“

“You love the puns,” Yang grinned, miming a playful punch in Blake’s direction.

“I _tolerate_ the puns. What I’d love is for you to have a bath before you come back to camp.”

* * *

 

“Weiss, wait up!”

“Stop following me!”

“Like saying that has _ever_ actually worked,” Ruby growled, lugging her scythe behind them as they walked.

A sound that was half-sigh, half pant came from the trees ahead. Pushing through the bushes, Ruby found herself face-to-face with the heiress, her brows raised in weary submission.

“What do you want, Ruby?” Weiss asked, her voice pitching up as she finished, arms flopping uselessly at her sides.

“Why’d you run off?”  _There. Nice and direct. Dealing with the problem head on, like a good leader. I’ve totally got this._

“Because I am tired. I’m sore. To top it all off, I’m covered in snake innards. Now will you _please_ just let me be?” Weiss turned on her heel, and started back down the path.

_Okay. That’s a start. At least she’s talking to me..._

“Weiss, you can’t just run off and leave your team in combat, especially not me. I’m your partner. Whatever the problem is, I can hel-”

“ _You’re_ my problem!” Weiss screamed, ice blue eyes alight with anger. “I can’t think while you’re around. You’re a distraction, and I can barely fight with you bouncing around in the corner of my eye!”

Ruby froze, her chest tightening as Weiss’ barbs found their mark. The two girls just stood there for a moment, staring at each other over the pained silence that grew between them.

Closing her eyes, Weiss raised her marginally cleaner hand and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “I-I’m sorry. That ... I’m tired. Please, Ruby. I just ... I need some time alone.” Breaking away, Weiss turned to leave.

“Weiss, if you want to leave the team ... it’s okay.”

The heiress’ back stiffened, her legs freezing in place as she stopped.

“I mean, most hunter teams don’t stay together this long. Plus, for me and Yang, we were raised to this. It’s in our blood, and ... and being a huntress is a career for us, but ...” Ruby paused, her throat clenching. Refusing to let her voice crack, she pushed through. “But there’s a whole company, with your name on it, waiting for you. If you don’t want to be here anymore, if you’re not happy, I ... we’ll understand.”

With that, Ruby turned and trudged back through the woods, knuckles white as she clenched her weapon to her side.

Once Ruby was beyond hearing, Weiss sagged, and let her weight fall against the nearest tree, not caring about the damage the sap might do to her already-ruined clothes. Putting her head in her hands, she closed her eyes, and tried not to think about the dark-haired girl storming off towards camp.

“Dammit, Ruby. Why do you have to be so dense?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, after a long break, I’m back, with a new, updated version incorporating elements from Volume 3. I’ll be updating all of the chapters with edits, a few additions, and the occasional fix before doing new chapters. Things to be changed include a bit of Winter’s portrayal and the Ruby/Weiss relationship, which I’ve never been fully happy with. Updated chapters will be labelled with the 'Redux' in the title. Hopefully I'll be able to get out one or two edited chapters a day before the RWBY Volume 3 Finale, and I'll start releasing new chapters after the Finale.
> 
> Please, if at all possible, leave a review if you can. That's how I find out what people thought of the story, the updates, and it lets me know what you like and would like to see. Even if it's only a couple words, it always makes my day, and constructive criticism is always appreciated.
> 
> You can also find me at redsuitwriter on tumblr, where I’m happy to answer pretty much any questions about me, this story, or any of my other projects (including some of my other stories and my work as one of the writers for the Summer Rose Court RWBY fan-game – although there’s not as much I can talk about for that one.) So please, drop by and send me an ask – I’d love to talk to anyone. (Seriously - please talk to me, it's always fun to open my inbox and see mail)


	2. Prologue - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang attempts to repair the damage to Ruby and Weiss' relationship with a night out, to mixed results. Major Bumblebee, some WhiteRose.

Yang stood in the living room of the apartment she shared with Ruby, weight balanced on one hip, arms crossed menacingly across her chest as she stared down at her latest problem.

So  _maybe_  Blake was right. _Maybe_ she was a little stubborn. Maybe she was a bit mule-headed at times, possibly even ‘impulsive.’

She was nothing compared to Ruby.

“It’s been weeks since we’ve actually had time off, and you want to spend the night cooped up at home?” Yang said in her best deadpan, staring skeptically at her unkempt sister.

“Yang, we all could use some down time,” the younger girl mumbled around a soon-to-be devoured cookie. Stuffing the snack in her mouth, Ruby curled up against the couch in the same pajamas from the day before, oversized bag of cookies in one hand, television remote in the other. Two gearheads from Mistral argued on the flatscreen, debating the benefits of a quad-rotor transformer for weapon modifications.

Yang rolled her eyes. She knew all too well what Ruby meant by ‘down time.’ These days, time off meant ‘stay-cation’ for most of the team, with Blake and Ruby retreating into their respective caves to hibernate while the world moved on. Blake had undoubtedly dived into a new book by now, the rest of humanity long forgotten.  _Although,_  Yang had to admit,  _it’s adorable whenever you catch her reading those naughty ninja books._

Meanwhile, Ruby was about an hour away from slipping off to her workshop, where she would vanish for their entire vacation, emerging only for meals with grease stains all over her hands. At least the solitary reading and tinkering actually helped the two girls relax, which was more than Yang could say for how Weiss spent her time. Half the time the group had leave, Weiss used it to check on her family’s business, a task that completely failed to improve the heiress’ mood. She always came back even more stressed and angry, and only a week or so of contact with the team was enough to bring her back to her usual self.

Yang had a sneaking suspicion that wouldn’t be enough this time.

If Ruby and Weiss had been distant before their last mission, it was nothing compared to their behavior over the last few days. The two girls barely spoke, descending into sullen silence at the mere _mention_ of the other. Yang might actually have thought they were angry, but for the sad glances they threw at each other when either thought no one could see. It was obvious both had something they wanted to say to each other – hell, anyone who looked at either of them could see that.

Honestly, this whole thing was really starting to get on her nerves.

Ruby opened her still-cookie-filled mouth, only get bulldozed by Yang, who had no intention of letting her little sister escape her plans.

“The three of you barely talk to anyone outside the other hunters as it is, and with the JNPR pairs and what’s left of CFVY on assignment, that’s a damn short list. It’s unhealthy.”

Yang grinned as Ruby began to blanch, the smaller girl realizing what Yang had in mind. “Tonight, you’re going to wear something cute, come with me to a bar, and _hopefully_ meet someone you can talk to for ten minutes without having to kill something.” 

_And if I’m lucky, a couple of you might actually have some fun for once._

Yang made sure to lean as menacingly as she could over her sister, hoping it would distract her from looking at her argument too closely. She wasn’t exactly  _lying –_ some of her team really were reluctant to spend much time outside their little group – but that wasn’t her only reason for wanting Ruby out of the apartment they shared.

Their last assignment, clearing a potential settlement of a Grimm infestation, had meant spending almost a month and a half in closer-than-close quarters. Weeks of cabin fever and days flooded with adrenaline had left them grinding their teeth at every perceived slight and quirk. The four had about two weeks of leave as compensation, and Yang was not about to let Ruby slip back into her antisocial habits.  _Especially if this gets her talking to Weiss again. Or at least lets them be in the same room together._

“I would, but Crescent Rose has been acting up lately. She could really use a good tune-up...” Ruby trailed off as Yang triggered her gauntlets, knuckles cracking as her mouth twisted into the blonde’s most menacing grin.

“When do we leave?” the cowed girl muttered, slumping back down against the couch.

* * *

“How exactly did you get them to agree to this?” Ruby called out of the closet, still mulling over her clothes and probably trying to think of ways to get out of going. Sighing, Yang flopped impatiently back onto her sister’s bed, bouncing a little as the springs adjusted. It had taken her about a minute to find her favorite yellow-gold dress shirt and button it just high enough to avoid leaving traffic accidents in her wake. Follow that with a pair of tight black jeans that made her ass look positively  _awesome_ , and she was pretty much done.

Ruby, on the other hand, had been raiding her closet for the better part of an hour.

“Weiss actually seemed up for it. It was Blake that required a little convincing.”

A red-streaked head popped out from behind the corner, her bare shoulders telling Yang that she  _still_  hadn’t picked an outfit.

“How’d you get her to agree?”

“We had an honest discussion, and she agreed I, as always, was completely right and that she needed to socialize more outside the team.”

“… how’d you _really_ get her to agree?”

“I promised her that autographed first edition of  _Ninjas of Love_ I stashed away,” Yang grinned. “You should have seen her face. She  _hated_  admitting how much she wanted it.”

“Okay. How’s this?” Ruby asked for what was probably the hundredth time, emerging from the closet to pose hands-on-hip before her bedroom mirror.

Yang glanced over at her sister in an equal mixture of amusement and exasperation. Ruby had abandoned her preferred knee-length combat skirt in favor of skin-tight black pants, and a rather billowy scarlet silk blouse. With her hair up, it seemed like she’d aged half a decade – anyone looking at Ruby would see the young woman she had become, not the grown child she occasionally insisted on being. Yang fought back her smile, not wanting to embarrass her sister any more than she already was. Ruby really looked like the huntress she had always dreaming of becoming.

_Hell, she looks a little like Summer._

“You look great,” Yang nodded. The key to handling Ruby was not to let her get caught in her own self-doubt. Reassure her too much, she’d take anything you said as mere pandering or pity; even becoming a licensed huntress hadn’t completely solved Ruby’s self-esteem problems. Hopefully, she would improve with age and just a little help from her loving sister. 

 _Sometimes it’s rough being the greatest big sister in the world_.

“I’m still not sure ...”

A soft ringing interrupted Ruby’s latest attempt to get out of coming. Propelling her sister down the hall, Yang just barely managed to wrangle the door open while keeping a struggling Ruby from diving to freedom out the nearest window.

Weiss was standing awkwardly in the doorway, a pale-blue off-the-shoulder minidress draped over her hips. She fidgeted, fiddling with the white peacoat she wore to fend off the cold. Blake, meanwhile, lounged against the door frame, looking infinitely more at ease than her teammate. The normal vest-shorts-and tights ensemble had given way to a particularly breezy blouse, topping a skirt just a little too long to be truly fashionable.  _All various shades of black and white, of course._ She’d tied back her long, dark hair, leaving her neck – and her occasionally twitching ears – visible in the frigid air.

Yang let her hands clench, fighting the temptation to run her fingers down those adorable ears. The Faunus had made it quite clear that she did not appreciate the others touching her feline appendages. She’d even hissed at Ruby after an accidental head-scratch a few years ago. That had put a stop to it, after the rest of the team recovered from their hysterics.

Still, even with Weiss looking awkward and Blake fiddling with a book, Yang couldn’t help being impressed. Despite how much she’d had to fight to get them to agree –  _well, Blake and Ruby, at least_  – they had definitely come through.

Yang tossed her sister out the door, practically throwing her into Weiss. The pair grappled for a moment before regaining their footing, ending with Ruby accidentally pinning Weiss against the wall, the heiress’ hands landing on Ruby’s waist. There was a split second where the two found themselves nose-to-nose, staring straight into each other’s eyes. Then Weiss thrust Ruby off of her, hurriedly fixing her dress and blushing furiously all the while.

Yang rolled her eyes, thoroughly unimpressed.  _Weiss is gonna pop a capillary if she keeps getting all worked up over nothing._ Grabbing her coat, she locked the door before her sister could manage to sneak back inside. Prepared to wrangle her teammates like unruly kittens, Yang smiled.

“Everyone ready to go?”

* * *

Thankfully, Yang managed to get them to the pub before the crush of people overwhelmed the taxed bartenders. Leading the way, Yang made a show of holding the door, watching like a hawk as each of her captives entered. There was less chance one of them would manage to slip the leash that way. She’d made it very clear on the way over: the three were not allowed to leave early, simply spend time with each other, or pass out until at least midnight. Yang, with the grace of a saint, had resigned herself to a night of sobriety.

Well, moderate sobriety. Okay,  _some_  sobriety. There was little chance of her keeping tabs on her charges if she started her usual drinking regimen. Sending the three girls off with a wave, Yang took a seat by the bar closest to the door, and flagged down the brunette tending bar.

Snagging her pint, Yang slipped the bartender a fistful of lien, nodding pointedly towards her teammates. Yang had chosen the pub for a number of reasons, but the familiarity was pretty high on the list. While not exactly a regular, she’d come here often enough for the wait staff to recognize her. It made it far easier paying them off to inform her if a snowflake princess, bookish shadow, or cookie-snarfing demon-girl tried to leave. It didn’t hurt that the other patrons were mostly regular people, the kind who kept regular business hours, grabbed a few drinks after work, and for whom a particularly sharp sheaf of paper or rogue stapler was their greatest threat.  _Nice and normal, which is exactly what they need._

She gave them a good twenty minutes before she decided to check in on them. Sliding off her stool, Yang left her empty glass behind and went in search of her prey, finding the two loudest members of her team within seconds. Sitting at one of the tables, Weiss and Ruby were bickering.

Well, Weiss was bickering. Well … it was hard to tell with those two. Ruby clearly couldn’t tell sometimes when or why she was getting on Weiss’ nerves, but the ice princess seemed to take offense at the strangest things these days. It was almost like they’d gone back to how they were when their team was first assigned, every little thing managing to get under Weiss’ skin.  _Well, at least they’re actually_ talking _, so it’s some sort of improvement._

“I can’t believe you,” the ivory-haired beauty was saying, shaking her head in utter disdain at the concoction sitting in a cocktail glass across the table.

“Come on, Weiss. It tastes like cookies. Cookies!” Yang buried her face in her hands, adding everyone nearby to the list of people who could never know Ruby was related to her.

“It’s hardly the way to convince people to treat you like an adult. Ordering a ‘choco-garita,’” Weiss shuddered. Her face contorted into something that would have given a gargoyle a run for his money, as she refused to look at the tequila-and-chocolate liqueur monstrosity that Ruby was slurping like a milkshake.

“But it’s sooo good!” Ruby purred, finishing off her first and making a run to the bar for a second. Yang smiled wryly.  _Well, she’s_ drinking _her cookie binge. Not what I meant by a change of pace, but it’ll do._  Weiss just shook her head before stalking back for her own refill.

Sighing, Yang decided to let them be. Even if they  _were_  just hanging out together, it was definite step up from the two of them being at each other’s throats. Well, better than Weiss being at Ruby’s throat.

Finding Blake took more effort than the other two, but Yang eventually found her darker teammate chatting up one of the bartenders. Compared to the others, Yang wasn’t all that worried about their Faunus friend. Blake was more than capable of being sociable, she just didn’t make an effort at it, preferring the company of dusty volumes and long-dead authors. Hell, the only reason Yang really wanted her to come was so it was the four of them together. Without Blake, it just wouldn’t have been the same.

Yang decided not to meddle. It was rarely a bad thing to make friends with the bartender.

An hour later, Yang stood at the back of the pub, smiling proudly as she surveyed the results of her work. Ruby was chatting animatedly with what looked like a weaponsmith, the two swapping sloppily drawn design schematics on ring-stained napkins. The man was a little older, and far more grizzled, but at least Ruby was _sharing_ her unhealthy obsession with her weapon _._ Weiss wasn’t doing too badly herself. The princess was buried at the back of a corner booth, conversing quietly with a well-dressed young woman that had approached her table. Considering the amount of effort the newcomer was making to look Weiss in the eye, she seemed genuinely interested in the _tsundere_.

_Good on her. Even Blake seems to be having fu ... dammit._

In the crush of people, Yang hadn’t even noticed Blake vanish. She cursed, mostly at herself, for not expecting their friend to find a way to slip out of having a good time. Damning her friend’s reading habits, Yang stalked through the crowd, determined to force the quiet Faunus into having fun.

Several minutes of increasingly frustrated searching later, she found her target curled up in a small couch by the fireplace, head resting on one hand while staring glassy-eyed into a thick paperback. Somehow, the Faunus had managed to find the one uncrowded area of the pub, claiming one of the plush sofas as her private reading area.

Distracted, Blake brought her drink to her lips, downing the last dregs before abandoning it on the table at her side. As if on cue, one of the servers swung by, a pint of stout replacing the now-empty glass. Nodding absently, she muttered something appreciative, her eyes never leaving the yellowing pages.

“That must be one good book,” Yang growled, glowering at her disobedient teammate. The entire point of the evening was for them to talk with someone outside the team. Preferably living ones, not the long-dead war heroes and fictitious characters the Faunus often spent her time with. Blake looked up, blinking to let her eyes refocus.

“It is. I may even finish it tonight if no one distracts me.”

Yang had to struggle to keep her teeth from grinding when Blake immediately returned to the open pages, apparently deciding that the conversation was over.

“Trust you to find the one lonely place in a room full of people,” Yang snapped.

“You forget that some people still aren’t too fond of Faunus after the attack on Beacon,” whispered Blake in a quiet monotone, refusing to look up.

Blinking, it hit Yang exactly how Blake had found the one quiet place in a pub packed with people: she hadn’t. Out of the corner of her eye, Yang watched a group of young men work their way through the crowd to the empty seats by the fire, see the cat-eared girl sitting on the couch, and quickly change direction, choosing to fight the crowd rather than move closer to the Faunus. Granted, not everyone was making an obvious effort to avoid her, but those who didn’t just seemed not to make a point of filling the space near the hearth.

Her frustration with Blake faded immediately, replaced by a rage only partly directed at the crowd. She should have known. She should have checked how many Faunus visited the place before she dragged Blake here. Granted, the Faunus population in Vale was definitely a minority, but for Blake to be the sole Faunus in the room was ridiculous. It was something that shouldn’t have happened. It was something she  _should_  have noticed.

“Those pri-” Before she could finish her thought, Blake yanked her down into the sofa next to her.

“Sit. Relax, or you’ll break something.” Blake placed her hands over the blonde’s own. Looking down, Yang watched as her teammate ran manicured fingers over her white-knuckled fists. Slowly, Blake’s ministrations coaxed the fingers into unknotting, leaving Blake holding Yang’s hands while the blonde refused to meet her eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind breaking a few of them,” Yang groused, her threat only partly joking. At least a good beating would go a long way to making her feel better. It was such a dumb mistake. Among their friends, and most of the other huntsmen and huntresses, being a Faunus wasn’t that big a deal; a number of hunters were Faunus, and apart from throw-backs like Cardin, most were smart enough not the care. Blake was just Blake, even if she did have adorable cat ears. But after the attack during the Vytal festival, after the White fang had attacked the school, anti-Faunus sentiment hadn’t exactly died down. To forget how a good portion of the world treated people like her...

“Wailing on them won’t change anything, and you’ll just get us thrown out.” Blake met the blonde’s eyes for the first time since they’d started talking. The Faunus’ expression wasn’t that of anger, or even sadness. Yang was the first to admit she wasn’t the best at reading people, but if she had to guess, she would have said it was … resignation. It was a far cry from the fiery young woman who’d joined their team years ago. Back then, when she was a little younger and quite a bit angrier, Blake would have been the first to point out this kind of discrimination, the first to object to it. Yang quietly closed her mouth, putting thoughts of truly justified retribution aside. For now.

“I promise not to crack their heads like walnuts,” Yang said, doing her best to sound put-upon. Blake smirked, letting go of Yang’s hands.

“At least this way, I finally get to read my book.”

“I’m sorry, Blake. I thought ...”

“You thought most people were, at their core, decent and willing to accept others as they are.” Blake picked a loose strand of blonde hair off her book, tugging it until Yang turned to look at her. “You’re not as bad as Ruby, but you still tend to want to see the best in people. It’s one of the reasons I’ve stuck around.”

The brawler shook her head, golden waves rustling as she stared down at Blake’s hand, still resting atop her own. “I’ve been your best friend for years. If anyone should know what to look out for, it’s me.”

“Yang, you’re not a Faunus. You’ll never be as conscious of how we’re treated by some people.” Blake’s smile shifted, the sadness leaving as the cat-like glint returned to her eyes. “It  _is_  cute how much you want to crack skulls and defend my honor.”

Reaching up, Blake pushed a stray lock of yellow hair back past Yang’s forehead, tugging gently until the taller girl would look her in the face.

“This  _was_  a good idea, especially for Ruby, and anything that helps Weiss loosen up again is a good thing in my book.”

Yang couldn’t resist a short laugh. “Fair enough.” Tucking her legs beneath her, she wriggled her way into a more comfortable position, letting the cushions of the fireside couch mold to her hard muscles.

“What are you doing?” Blake asked, book in one hand as the sofa shifted from Yang’s weight.

“The least I can do. Granting you the pleasure of my company.”

“Yang, you really don’t have to. Go have a few drinks, enjoy your night.”

“What, with these morons?” Yang snuggled into the curve of Blake’s side, her head resting on the other girl’s shoulder. Despite being several inches shorter, the Faunus girl still managed to make for a surprisingly comfortable pillow.

“Fuck ‘em.”


	3. Backdraft - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls finish their night out. Blake has some choice words for Yang, and the two have a heart-to-heart. Oh, and don't insult Blake in front of Yang. Very bad idea. Emotional, Fluffy Bumblebee

_Mix Grand Marnier and Drambuie in equal measure, with a splash of rum. Light the drink on fire and pretend to drink, before throwing it in the face of whoever incurred your righteous fury. Garnish with cinnamon, to salt their wounds._

An hour later, Yang was still curled up against Blake, head resting against her partner’s shoulder as her living pillow flicked through the last several pages. The book seemed interesting enough, at least from the little that Yang bothered to read. Rare for an account of the Faunus Rights Revolution, it seemed remarkably evenhanded, lacking the blatant self-justification from both sides. Blake finished the book, turning the last page and letting the cover flick shut behind it.

“Hey, Blake?” Yang asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“What do you get when you cross a hyena and a poodle?”

Blake sighed, Yang’s head following with the rise and fall of her partner’s chest.

“I don’t know. What is it?”

“A snickerdoodle.”

Yang’s lips split in her widest, shit-eating grin as Blake groaned, the Faunus’ weight shifting as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. The best jokes were the ones that caused actual physical pain.

“I will throw you off this couch,” Blake drawled, smacking the smiling blonde head with her book.

Yang simply grinned wider and adjusted again, trying to fit her long legs into the just-too-short loveseat. “You know you love it.”

Setting the book aside, Yang felt Blake gently rest her head atop her own, breath slowing as the two slowly started fusing to the cushions of the sofa. She had to admit, it was incredibly comfortable pressed into Blake’s soft side, her head resting against bookworm’s shoulder. She could hear Blake’s soft, steady breathing in her ear, matching the warm ebb of the fire as the two sat in their quiet corner. With the warmth of the other girl at her side, and the fire roasting her, she felt ... right. Safe. Not bothering to fight it, Yang let her eyes fall shut, sighed contentedly, and snuggled deeper into the curve of Blake’s shoulder.

... only to be awoken by a resounding cry of “Cookies!”

Yang jolted upright, her head cracking against her partner’s jaw. Rubbing the side of her head, Yang looked up to find the crowd parting before her. Something white and red moved through the mass of bodies, slowly zigzagging as the shapes worked their way through the other patrons. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Yang watch blearily as a staggering Weiss emerged from the press of people, a semi-conscious Ruby braced against one shoulder. From the way the younger woman was swaying, it was obvious she had indulged a little more than Yang had hoped.

“How bad?” Yang murmured sleepily. Her legs complained as she moved, muscles cramped from being confined so long.

“Tequila,” Weiss said, looking some combination of exasperated and completely mortified. Ruby chose that moment to try to drink from her empty glass, looking heartbroken at the lack of booze.

“That wasn’t the question.”

“But it is the answer,” Weiss clipped back, embarrassment not improving her mood. “Your sister can’t hold her liquor.”

“She has a tendency to overdo things,” Blake agreed diplomatically, her voice muffled by the hand massaging her sore jaw.

Weiss’s eyes darted over the two groggy women, the piercing ice blue eyes making Yang all too aware of how entangled she and her partner were on the small couch. With her most put-upon sigh, Weiss plucked the glass from Ruby’s hand, putting it on a nearby table before the wobbling girl dropped it.

“Look, I was about to leave anyway. I’ll get Ruby home before she hurts herself.”

“You’re sure?” Yang asked, trying to pull herself from the couch. “I can come with-”

“It’s fine. There should be a cap waiting at the curb, and I’ll text you as soon as I get her home. You two ...”

Those pale eyes scanned the two partners again, disapproval at the publically cuddling women flickering across her face. Ruby chose that moment to poke Weiss’ cheek, giggling her best impression of Nora’s ‘boop.’ Gently swatting Ruby away, the heiress shifted her grip, keeping their staggering leader on her feet.

“You enjoy your night.” Weiss shifted her burden’s falling weight back to her shoulder. Stopping mid-fall, Ruby leered over at the petite woman who was just managing to keep her upright. The hellion grinned with recognition, immediately launching into disastrously off-key carols.

“Ahhhm, dreeamin’ of a Weeeeeiss Huuuntreessss,” she sang, her drunken grin growing as the heiress’ face lit up like the holiday decorations outside. Desperate to silence her singing cargo, Weiss half-lifted Ruby into her arms, tucking the red-streaked head against her shoulder.

Moving carefully through the crowd, Weiss managed to mostly avoid smashing Ruby into anything too unforgiving, even after her burden decided that it would be fun to play with Weiss’ hair like a cat toy. With the patience of a saint, Weiss disentangled the girl’s hands from her braid and sidled their fearless leader out into the night, snow swirling in as the door swung shut.

“Well that officially ruined the moment,” Blake grumbled, shifting her weight as she struggled to emerge from the cushions.

“Hmm?” Yang blinked at her former living pillow, still groggy.

“Don’t worry about it.” Blake slid her book back into her bag. “You know you snore, right?”

“I do not.” Yang cracked her neck as she rose, feeling tight muscles loosen as she stretched.

“Yes, you do,” Blake teased, her voice playful and husky. “I thought about waking you, but you look so peaceful when you’re not punching someone.”

“This coming from the girl who purrs,” Yang grinned, the return volley primed and fired. If Blake wanted to play this game, she was more than capable of holding her own.

Blake froze, halfway out of the sofa. Rising to her full height, she stared directly up into Yang’s eyes. Gone was the dry humor, the wry twist at the side of her mouth she always got when Yang made her laugh. At that moment, the blonde was infinitely grateful for the few inches she still had on her partner. Even in heels, Blake still had little choice but to glare up at the taller woman.  _At least she’s kinda cute when she’s angry. Even when she’s angry at me. Hell, especially when she’s angry at me._

“Outside. Now.” Turning away, Blake stormed out of the pub. The crowd dutifully, almost eagerly parted to let her leave. Yang waited a minute by the fire, staring at the leaping flames behind the glass and giving her teammate a chance to cool down.

With a sigh, she turned towards the door and began making her own way back through the throngs. Gathering herself together, she prepared for whatever mistake she would have to make up for now.

Yang jerked to a halt as a hand grabbed her arm. It wasn’t particularly strong, and it wasn’t a grip that would give someone leverage to throw her. Still, Yang could feel her fists clenching as she turned to the young man who had tried to get her attention.

“In about ten seconds, that hand will no longer have a body to be attached to.” Yang was careful to keep her voice as level as possible. She wanted this to end, and end quickly. If he was too drunk, and if she was too rude, this might turn … unpleasant. For him. Then Yang would have to waste the time to beat him senseless, followed by any friends he might have. She doubted Blake would bother to wait that long.

“Hey, there’s no need for that,” the man said, putting his hands up in what he probably thought was a comic surrender. “We were just wondering if you wanted to have a drink with us. No reason for a pretty girl like you to drink alone.”

“Not interested. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Yang stepped forward, her shoulder crashing into the annoyance and pushing him aside as she strode forward towards the door. She watched the annoyance rub his hopefully bruised shoulder, face scrunched up in a confused scowl as he rejoined his cat-calling friends.

“Guess she’s more interested in her pet than a good time,” the young man joked behind her. In hindsight, the comment probably hadn’t been meant for her, but she heard it just the same. He probably should have spoken quietly. He  _really_ shouldn’t have insulted Blake.

Not bothering to activate her gauntlets, Yang turned, hips dropping to throw her full weight behind her fist, and drove her gloved knuckles directly into the man’s jaw. The explosive blow knocked the man back, breaking one of the weaker tables in his fall. Yang doubted he would ever know what had hit him.

Rising to her full height, the brawler threw her best death glare at his stunned and silent friends, before tossing a few bills onto the bar.  _Always good manners to pay for the damages._  Giving the other patrons the darkest look she could muster, Yang strode for the door.

Whipping her tan leather duster off the rack, she swirled it around her and stepped out into the bracing wind, wincing as the cold air bit at her face and hands. Her teammate stood there, spine ramrod-straight, golden eyes steadily glowering at Yang through the falling snow. Her arms were crossed beneath her breasts, her feet braced in the hard-packed snow. The dark-haired woman waited, watching Yang step away from the warm, bright pub before marching up to her, the snow crackling and crunching beneath her feet.

“I. Do. Not. Purr.” Blake growled, each syllable clipping against her teeth, her tufted ears plastered back against snow-strewn hair.

Slowly, Yang pushed her own wild mane back over one shoulder, the motion a thin excuse to buy time before answering. Blake wasn't normally this defensive. At least, not with her. Granted, she'd noticed Blake's sensitivity about her feline traits over the years, especially her ears. Yang assumed the appendages were just pretty sensitive.  _And honestly, I wouldn’t take too kindly to people tugging on my ears either._

Blake kept her gaze level, waiting angrily for the taller woman to speak.  _Well, here goes nothing._ Keeping her voice as soft and calm as she could, Yang reached out for her friend, hand closing gently on the other woman’s shoulder. “Blake, you kinda do, and really, it’s _purr_ fectly okay.”

Blake’s eyes merely narrowed further, Yang’s attempt at humor falling flat in the angry silence. The dark woman tried to turn away, stopped only by Yang’s hand still clasped on her arm. Gentle, but insistent, Yang pulled Blake back to face her, the girl’s expression telling her she’d managed to be wrong again.  _Might as well go with the honest approach_.

“Blake, you’re right. I’m not a Faunus. No matter how hard I try, I can’t always know where you’re coming from. So, you’re gonna have to actually  _tell_ me why you’re touchy about the cat stuff.”

Blake finally looked up into the blonde’s eyes. That anger was still there, smoldering in gorgeous golden pools, but Yang could finally see something mixed with the fury, flickering across her partner’s face as they stood alone on the silent snowbound street.

“I’m not a pet, Yang,” Blake said, her voice cracking as she spoke. Realization hit Yang, followed by the overwhelming desire to hug the poor girl. Under the anger, under the annoyance and embarrassment, it was hurt.

“For most humans, my ears either make me an uncontrolled monster, or they’re a novelty to be poked and prodded. Even worse, there are the ones who find me … ‘exotic.’” Blake shivered against Yang’s arm, the mere idea repulsive. “I’m a fetish for them, a wild thing to bring home and collar and _tame_. You saw what Velvet had to go through back at school. Why do you think I wore that damn ribbon for so long?”

“I am tired of people wanting to  _domesticate_  us, of ones like Cardin grabbing our tails or an ear because they think it’s funny.” The raven-haired woman’s mouth twisted in anger and pain, rage tightening her throat till the words rasped. “Yang, you’ve been my partner for years. You’re the last person I need comparing me to an animal, even if you just think it’s cute.”

Yang swallowed and tried to blink the snow from her eyes. She was well aware of exactly how strong her teammate was. She’d seen Blake cleave an ursa in half, watched as she mowed through scores of Grimm, dancing through combat with an acrobatic ease that would have had Yang gasping. There was no one she would rather have at her back, no better partner she could have. Yet, as they stood in the falling snow, all Yang could see was the young, vulnerable woman who had lost almost everything that had ever mattered to her. The girl who had lived most of her life wondering if anyone but another Faunus would see past the small black ears to the lonely woman underneath.

Blake tried to pull away, but Yang grabbed her with her other arm, pulling her partner into her renowned bear hug. Ignoring the attempts to pull away, Yang tucked her partner’s head under her own, feeling the soft black hair brush against her chin, warm breath misting against her neck.

“Blake, if you weren’t a Faunus, you never would have joined the White Fang. You wouldn’t have left, which means you might never have come to Beacon. Me, Ruby, Weiss – we only know you  _because_  you’re a Faunus. So if those ears are one of my favorite things about you, right next to your obsession with those damn books and the shyness you’ll  _never_  admit to, it’s because I wouldn’t have met you without them.  _If_  you purr, it’s just a reminder of what brought you to me.”

Blake was silent for a long time, her still body pressed against Yang’s, no longer struggling. Yang had no intention of moving. The blonde was content to stand there until doomsday, her arms trying to say everything she couldn’t.

“Us,” the smaller woman whispered, quiet enough that Yang had to strain to hear her over the soft howl of the wind.

“Hmm?”

“You and Ruby and Weiss. It should be ‘what brought you to  _us_.’” Blake repeated, her voice stronger.

“... right. Sure.”

“And I don’t purr.” Blake murmured into her chest.

“I know,” Yang agreed without a second thought. _Even if you kinda do._

“Is that blood on your hand?”

“It’s not mine.”

“Okay.”

And that was that.

Yang was never able to remember how long she stood there, holding Blake against her chest. What she could never forget was the girl’s soft warmth against her, the lithe frame so small and thin within her arms. The beating of Blake’s heart pounding through her.

Eventually, Blake pushed against her, and Yang let go. The raven-haired girl sneezed, her nose red from the cold, and shivered against the wind. Without thinking, Yang peeled off her duster and wrapped it around the thinner girl’s shoulders – the thick coat was made for Yang’s taller, more muscled frame and it swallowed Blake completely. Blake tried to shrug it off, apparently preferring to freeze than accept the gesture. Yang clasped her hands on the girl’s shoulders, keeping the coat firmly in place.

“I don’t feel the cold,” Yang smiled down at her friend.

Stepping back, Yang gave her semblance a short pulse, letting it flare around her. She had more than enough juice, enough anger, after that jerk at the bar, and a short wave of heat came off her, evaporating the snow around them and leaving the pavement steaming. Walking back to Blake, Yang draped her arm around the Faunus and pulled her close, the cockiest of grins gracing her mouth.

Looking down, she noticed Blake holding the coat’s collar up to her nose, eyes half-lidded as she breathed against the lining. Catching herself, she froze and dropped the front of the duster, letting it settle back around her shoulders. Still blushing, Blake refused to meet Yang’s eyes as the blonde stared down at her friend.

“You okay?”

“I’m warmer now,” Blake said, answering a question Yang hadn’t asked.

Not willing to push the matter, Yang strode off into the snow for a cab. A soft sound reached her ears, and she jolted to a stop. Her whole being demanded that she turn back to the young woman who had just said something she had never expected to hear.

It was almost quiet enough to convince Yang that she had simply imagined it. That it was merely a fumbled creation of her half-asleep brain. But that sound had floated over the whirling of the snow around them and the muted chaos from the nearby pub. A mere four words. Four words that were enough to make Yang’s heart jump a little higher in her chest, her breath grow a little quicker, her pulse beat just a little harder.

“It smells like you.”

It took everything Yang had to keep from running back to the woman behind her and thoroughly embarrassing the both of them. Forcing herself to keep moving forward, Yang plowed off into the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DGsilv3r was kind enough to whip this up after reading the chapter.
> 
> You can find the original, with the quote they used from the chapter, on their DeviantArt page. Used with permission.


	4. Tequila and Roses - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss takes Ruby home from the bar, and experiences some minor impulse control issues. WhiteRose

_Let edible rose petals sit in tequila for two days before straining. The smell is divine, if a little heady._

“I love you, Weiss.”

Weiss gritted her teeth as Ruby confessed to her begrudging caretaker for the ninth time that night.

“You’ve said that already. Go back to sleep.”

Ruby nodded, rolling back over in her seat to rest her head against the window, fading out of consciousness yet again.

 _She looks so peaceful,_  Weiss’ alcohol-affected brain thought before she could catch herself. Scowling, she rubbed at her eyes before massaging the back of her head, trying to get some feeling in the spot the little hellion had nearly scalped. Playing with her hair like a cat toy. _Unbelievable._

“Long night?” the cabbie grinned knowingly over his shoulder.

“Not as long as you would think,” Weiss said, trying to keep her words from slurring. A part of her would have loved to snap at him, but Ruby’s behavior was hardly his fault. Even if she would have preferred silent ride.

Sighing, she leaned back against the fake leather and tried to find some peace in the back seat of the taxi, staring out the window into the winter night. Something about the silence that came with a good snowfall, the way it muffled the world around it, had always seemed so romantic to her. The world, absent but for her, coated in a soft white shell.

Of course Ruby had to ruin a good night with her drinking. Weiss had told her not to go straight for the tequila. She’d told her not to down those disgusting cocktails like milkshakes. Hell, she’d done everything but force-feed the younger girl to keep her vaguely conscious. But no, Ruby had insisted on drinking and partying herself into a stupor, leaving her more-than tipsy partner to pick up after her.

 _Shouldn’t this be Yang’s job anyway?_   _This whole night was her idea._

Sighing, she stared out into the snowbanks, wanting to flop into one of the soft piles and let the cold envelop her. At least she wasn’t stuck wrangling Yang or Blake back to their beds as well. Weiss wasn’t sure how, but the two had seemed to tire themselves out almost immediately.  _I guess we’re not as young as we used to be, but still ..._

She’d found the two cuddled together on one of the couches near the fire, Yang’s head resting against Blake’s chest.  _Sleeping like_ that _in public. If Yang had gotten any lower ..._

Weiss felt something soft fall against her back. Looking over, she saw Ruby had slid into her as the cab turned a corner. Resisting the urge to shove Ruby back onto her side of the cab, Weiss looked down at her younger teammate. Ruby’s mouth hung slightly open, her breath softly hissing through her teeth as she slept _._ Her lips looked redder than normal.  _Odd, Ruby doesn’t normally wear lipstick._

As she watched, entranced by the girl sleeping atop her, Ruby’s mouth opened just a little more. For an instant, it was all Weiss could do to keep herself from kissing Ruby while she slept. Shaking her head, as if it would remove the image in her mind, Weiss brushed Ruby’s hair past her ear, gently cupping her face.

“I ... luv you, ‘eiss,” the younger girl slurred in her sleep.

“I kn-” Weiss started, catching herself.  _Oh what the hell, she’s not really listening anyway._

Leaning in, she kissed Ruby’s forehead, fighting to keep her throat from catching. “I love you too, Ruby. Go back to sleep.”

“M’kay.”

Another five minutes, and another five inane comments from the sleeping girl, and they were there. Pulling Ruby from the cab, she paid the cabbie before hauling the girl up the stairs. Two flights later, she managed to drag Ruby to the apartment the sisters shared.

Weiss shifted her burden as she unlocked the door, making sure not to crash the other girl’s head into the door frame as she carried her into the apartment. Taking Ruby back up into her arms, she froze, an immense sadness washing over her.  _This is not how I dreamed of carrying her over the threshold_. Yet there she stood, Ruby slumped over her shoulder like a particularly inebriated kitten, her red-black head resting against Weiss’ neck, breath teasing at the heiress’ exposed skin.

Weiss staggered as she tried to open the door, Ruby’s weight and the alcohol finally getting to her. Abandoning her hopeless dreams, the heiress bore Ruby into the apartment, taking solace in the fact that she got to do at least this much. Laying her softly on the couch, Weiss brushed dark hair past the younger woman’s ear, smiling as Ruby breathed softly against her hand.

 _You really really_ really _shouldn’t do this,_ Weiss told herself as she tried to pull away. _More importantly, this is a very very bad idea. You’ve had good reasons for not telling her how you felt._

_You’re ... drunk. You’re not thinking clearly. You would never even think of doing anything like this if you weren’t._

Ruby smelled of roses and tequila. 

_... just once._

Weiss leaned in slightly, savoring the moment. Sweeping a stray hair back into place, she lowered her mouth to hers, kissing her as she’d always wanted to, those red lips still tasting of tequila and salt. She kissed her deeper, desperate to etch the memory of a moment she had dreamed of for so long, a moment she had seen happening, and failing, a hundred different ways.

Pulling away from her lips, she gazed down at her teammate. A single button had come undone along her blouse. Any other time, it would be hardly scandalous, showing an insignificant bit of skin along her collarbone. But with Ruby supine against the cushions, her soft breath rhythmically sighing against Weiss’ ears, it screamed of vulnerability.

Reaching down to close it, her hands froze, stopped halfway in the act of preserving her leader’s modesty, and so sorely tempted to violate it. She hung in a haze of emotion and instinct, her whole being screaming to take advantage of a moment that might never come again, to fulfill her dreams with the girl who inspired them.

_Dammit, Weiss._

Her head pounding, the heiress ground her teeth, and slid the little ring of plastic back into its hole. She missed the first time, her fingers fumbling as she tried to re-do the button. Shaking her head to clear it, she managed to slip it into the buttonhole, then pulled away. It wouldn’t be right. She wasn’t ...

She wasn’t ...

_Just one more._

Leaning back in, Weiss kissed her again, this time deeper, more determined. A moan escaped the heiress’ throat, possessed by the realization that this was all they could ever be. To savor the taste of a girl who would never have her. Another kiss, this time to Ruby’s jawline, and another moan followed, filled with desire and frustration. Then a third moan came, and Weiss froze.

Her eyes traced across Ruby’s neck to her jaw, to her teeth biting into scarlet lips to hold back her sounds, the hand twisted in her charcoal tresses. Grey eyes opened and gazed into blue, noting Weiss’ lips barely an inch from her own, her face unreadable. Finally, her voice broke the silence.

“... please don’t stop, Weiss. Please.”

“Ruby, I-”

Before Weiss could finish, Ruby leaned forward, hands sliding clumsily into ivory tresses as she pressed up into the heiress. Her leash well and truly snapped, Weiss clung to the younger woman, desperate and half-convinced this was just some alcohol-fueled fever dream. Pale lips climbed Ruby’s form to wrestle with blood-red ones, tongues twining as Weiss fought for dominance. Her mouth caught Ruby’s moan as she squeezed her chest, feeling the soft weight of Ruby’s annoyingly larger breasts. Her hands slid down, almost unconsciously sliding each button from each hole, more of her lightly tanned skin being revealed at each step. Back arching up into her, Ruby twined her arms behind Weiss’ neck, her opened shirt leaving a long, thin slice of creamy skin against a sea of crimson silk.

A flick of the wrist, and her goddess lay before her, chest bared but for the black lace cupping her breasts. The next desperate kiss landed on Ruby’s cheek, her neck, her collar, her chest. Weiss’ hands reached up, unfastening the last covering in time with her kisses, baring Ruby’s breasts as her roaming mouth came upon them. Her lips brushed Ruby lightly, tasting the salt on her skin. She slid, achingly slowly, down to the bud, her lips wrapping around that sensual point, her teeth biting ever so softly. Weiss’ hands came up to cup her friend’s chest, fingertips tracing poems across her skin as they gripped and fondled, teased and loved.

The heiress’ kisses trailed back down, her partner’s eyes and body screaming for more. Reaching the fastening of Ruby’s pants, Weiss merely slid the jeans off her small frame, leaving her nude but for her black underwear, which soon found a place on the floor next to the matching bra. Weiss was mesmerized, her breath teasing Ruby’s core as her sheer joy caught up with her.

A small voice murmured, something unintelligible. Freezing, Weiss listened, barely able to hear Ruby’s voice over her own breathing.

“... more. Please.”

Needing no encouragement, Weiss descended to her opening, pink tongue sliding along Ruby’s lips, leaving the younger girl gasping incoherently. After a minute, a small hand slid into ivory tresses. Ruby’s back arched, her hips bucking into Weiss’ mouth every time she lapped against her core. As she worked, Weiss felt another hand join the first, clutching the heiress’ head to her lips as Ruby’s legs began to tense and shake. Hands clasped to Ruby’s hips, Weiss pressed into the climax, letting her former leader ride it out. Achingly soon, Ruby’s shakes subsided, her hands falling limply from Weiss’ hair.

Weiss crawled back up her lover’s body and found Ruby basking in the afterglow, her eyes glazed over in ecstasy. Cupping her chin, Weiss drew Ruby’s lips to her own, allowing Ruby to taste her own sweetness from Weiss’ mouth. Weiss broke the kiss, eyes welling with tears of unexpected, but so very welcome release. Ruby’s eyes were half-glassed, from alcohol or sex Weiss couldn’t tell.

Without wasting a second, Weiss guided Ruby’s hand to her center, while sliding her pale fingers along Ruby’s considerably wetter lips. Kissing Ruby again, she drove their hands into each other, both girls crying out at the intrusion. Weiss had been on the verge from the beginning, and the feeling of the girl she loved  _inside_  her was nearly enough to send her over the edge. Glancing desperately down at her lover, Weiss found Ruby biting down into her lips, holding back her voice as she shivered from the attention. Bringing her other hand back up to Ruby’s face, Weiss gently forced her to meet her gaze.

“Please. I love the way you sound.”

Ruby nodded, moaning as Weiss thrust her fingers back into her. She bucked her own hand against the white-haired girl, making the heiress moan with the effort to keep from collapsing. With each thrust, Ruby curled in upon herself, her voice growing more and more insistent and frantic. Weiss’ mouth latched onto her breast and, right as her fingers pushed inside one last time, Ruby came, her spasms jolting Weiss into her own climax.

* * *

Weiss came to an hour later, with Ruby lying atop her, the red-black head resting on Weiss’ chest, bobbing up and down in time to her own breathing. Weiss slowly disentangled herself from her lover, picking the discarded clothing off the floor and tossing a blanket over the other girl. Cleaning up Ruby as best she could, Weiss was infinitely grateful Yang had insisted the two get a leather couch.

She went through the domestic motions of the morning as if in a trance, her mind consumed with the events of the previous night and what they might mean.  _Was it just the alcohol driving her last night? Will she still see me as a friend? Or ..._ she couldn’t bring herself to finish the ‘or.’ The possibility of everything working out, of Ruby accepting her, was just too far-fetched, too unlikely. Ruby hadn’t been against it last night, but she’d never shown any real interest before, and ...

By the time the sun rose, Weiss found herself sitting at the kitchen island, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, head resting in her hands. Yang had staggered in hours ago, distracted rather than drunk, yawning her thanks for bringing Ruby home. Falling into bed, she’d left Weiss alone with her thoughts, longing and heartbreak her only companions throughout the sleepless night. Distracted by thoughts too horrible and wonderful to be aware of much else, the white-haired woman shrieked as a strong, annoyingly endowed body suddenly glomped her from behind.

“Thanks for getting me back home,” Ruby said into her ear. “I can barely remember half of what happened after we got to the pub. Must’ve had  _little_ too much to drink.”

“Despite me asking you to be careful,” groused Weiss, the expected grouchiness a welcome shield. _She doesn’t even remember? She was_ that _drunk?_  Her stomach dropped out beneath her, horror gripping her tighter than the arms still wrapped around her shoulders.

Turning Weiss around on the stool, Ruby smiled, warming and shattering her partner’s very being all at once. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier – I don’t know what I’d do without you taking care of me. You’re the greatest.”

“... don’t mention it.”

Still beaming, Ruby stumbled off towards her room, the sheet Weiss had laid over her still wrapped atop her mussed clothes. As soon as she was out of sight, Weiss turned and let her head thump into the marble countertop, the simple pain from the impact a welcome change. Her stomach roiled. It hurt even to breathe. Eyes locked on the hard stone, Weiss wished the earth would shatter and simply swallow her whole. Wished for something, _anything_ , that would let her just undo the night before.

“Hey, Weiss?”

Daggers sank into her spine as she started, nearly falling off her chair. Taking a breath, she waited for her heart to reach a normal pace, fear clawing at her chest.

“... what is it, Ruby?”

“Where are my pants?”


	5. Black Velvet - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss deals with the aftermath of her tryst with Ruby, and Blake works up the courage to visit Yang. WhiteRose angst, Bumblebee cuteness.

_Layer a good, dark stout over half a flute of champagne in equal measure. The champagne can be replaced with cider if you’re looking for something a little less tsun-tsun._

An hour later, Weiss found herself at the kitchen table, watching in horror as Ruby plowed through a swiftly diminishing stack of chocolate-chip pancakes. Granted, Yang was a fine chef when she could be convinced to cook, but Ruby’s table manners were simply abhorrent. But in spite of herself, Weiss had to admit she was impressed. Not one speck of food escaped the younger woman’s manic eating.  _And frankly, I suppose I should just be grateful she’s not ripping the pancakes apart with her bare hands._

Lost in thought, Weiss mechanically sliced a piece off her own breakfast and, only slightly out of spite, placed it daintily in her mouth.

_You’re the greatest._

The food in her mouth turned to ash as Ruby’s offhand comment clawed painfully across her mind. Forcing herself to swallow, Weiss winced as her stomach turned. Suddenly, even Yang’s cooking seemed tasteless.

“Are you going to eat that?” Ruby asked around the chunks of buttermilk pancake stuffing her face. Not waiting for a complete response, Ruby tugged Weiss’ plate into reach, her knife and fork blurring as she double-fisted her way through the meal.

“I’m amazed you can eat, let alone stand, after how drunk you were last night.” Weiss snapped, her brief flare of annoyance washed away by the returning guilt. She shouldn’t blame her. Shouldn’t be angry with her. What happened last night wasn’t Ruby’s fault.

Ruby swallowed her food, running her teeth with her tongue before flashing that smile of hers, somehow managing to look sheepish and confident. The one Weiss always found annoying and endearing in equal measure.

“I always recover fast. Plus, how could I get into any trouble with you around?”

Weiss winced, the knife twisting just a little deeper, guilt roiling her stomach as the younger woman’s attention returned to the pancakes.

“You sure you’re okay, Weiss?” Yang asked, slipping out of the kitchen to deliver a heaping platter of flapjacks and another mug of coffee to Ruby’s place, “You look like you’ve lost weight.” Setting her own smaller helping at the table, she finally sat down to eat.

“I’m just trying a new diet.” Weiss clipped, clearing her place. The sooner she left, the sooner she could stop thinking, and she had a pretty good idea how to go about that. Back at her apartment, there was a bottle or two with her name on it. Literally.

The Schnee Vineyard had finally released their first vintage, and since Weiss had been given the dubious honor of breaking ground on the new site, she’d ended up spending her last several vacations making sure the winery was running smoothly.

No doubt it was just another test, a chance to see if she’d run the first business her father ‘gave’ her into the ground. At least the wine had turned out well; her last two bottles called to her, promising at least a few hours of blissful, uncaring, alcohol-induced oblivion.

“Why would you want to lose weight? You look incredible,” mumbled Ruby, somehow able to let words slip out her mouth while shoveling food into it.

“Thank you, but I’m not asking the cookie monster for nutrition advice,” Weiss snapped back, flinching from the compliment. She knew Ruby meant well, she just wished ... no matter.

“You’re heading out?” Yang asked, thankfully bothering to swallow her food before opening her mouth.

Ruby gulped, barely managing to choke down the massive ball of food in her gullet. The heiress shuddered. The sight reminded her of a snake slowly digesting a larger animal, the bulge in its length slowly creeping down its neck. There was no reason that image should ever be considered cute, but somehow, some way, Ruby managed to pull it off. She blinked up at her partner, looking as hurt as if Weiss had kicked her dog.

“I thought we were going shopping today.”

Weiss ran through a choice selection of curses in her head. Never mind that she was the only one to remember what had happened last night. Never mind that every time she looked at Ruby she felt like a complete and utter monster. Never mind that the only reason Ruby didn’t hate her was that she was too thoughtless to wonder why she’d woken mostly naked on the couch.

No, Ruby wanted to go  _shopping_.

“Come on, Weiss. You promised.” Weiss looked down at the younger girl and nearly cursed again. Staring up at her were the biggest, softest pair of puppy eyes Weiss had ever seen. Knowing she had Weiss over a barrel, Ruby widened her eyes just a little, her pout becoming even more pronounced. Her treacherous heart already melting, Weiss sighed, her will to resist fading. Staring down into those gray orbs, she couldn’t help but remember those same smoky eyes glazed over in ecstasy, lashes fluttering as she-

Weiss shook her head violently. Cold shower. Definitely on the schedule. Maybe the first of several, followed by enough alcohol to make her forget her own name.

Looking back, she found Ruby somehow managing to maintain the puppy eyes while stuffing her mouth with buttermilk goodness. Unable to refuse, the long-suffering heiress resigned herself to a long, grueling day.

“Fine. Pick me up in an hour, I need to grab some stuff from my place.”

Overjoyed, Ruby bounced in her seat, her still-mussed hair flying about as her feigned sadness vanished.

“You know, you could always leave some clothes here. We have the space. Then you wouldn’t have to go back all the time.”

“No, Ruby.”

“You could even stay over! It’d be just like back at Beacon.” Ruby had actually stopped eating. Apparently, the master plan for convincing Weiss to share a bunk bed with her again was worth delaying the demands of her bottomless stomach.

Weiss struggled to keep from screaming, Ruby’s boundless exuberance testing the limits of Weiss’ notoriously short fuse. Breathing deeply, she forced herself to smile. “Next you’ll be asking me to move in with you. Thanks, but I happen to like my place.”

Maintaining the patronizing smirk as best she could, Weiss tossed her coat around her and strode out the door, letting it shut a little harder than it needed to. As soon as she was out of sight of the two sisters, Weiss collapsed against the wall, the strength in her legs leaving her as she slid limply to the floor. With nothing between them but several feet of hallway and one wonderful, horrible night, Weiss curled in on herself, and cried.

* * *

Blake awoke with the smell of roasting beans. Smiling sleepily as she crawled out of bed, the groggy woman staggered into the kitchen, mug already in-hand by the time she reached the counter. There sat the little automated coffee maker Yang had given her, a housewarming present from when the apartment was still new. The mere smell of the heavenly liquid was enough to brighten her mood, and Blake smiled fondly at the reliable little machine as the golden machine churned dark, perfectly-made bliss into her cup.

The machine clicked, cutting off the flow of caffeine. Blinking sleep from her eyes, Blake reached out and took the small cup, enjoying the smell before bringing the cup to her lips with a wry smile.

For years, she had avoided coffee like the plague. Ruby and Yang swore by the stuff, mainly to keep themselves awake during all-nighters and cram sessions, but something about the bitter taste always turned Blake's stomach. For the most part, she stuck to her tea, avoiding Ruby's need for daily caffeine infusions and Yang's neon-colored energy drinks. Then came the morning a particularly late study session, when Blake was functionally dead to the world. In a desperate attempt to drag her partner out of bed, Yang whipped up a cup of some indefinable substance that she swore Blake would like. To everyone's surprise, Blake actually _had_ enjoyed the unnamed concoction, and with some proud crowing on Yang's part, the blonde eventually got in the habit of bringing Blake coffee in the morning. 

It had become something of a ritual for them, with Yang growing more and more ambitious in her morning creations - which turned out to be the only form of coffee Blake could stomach. Eventually, Yang claimed it was the only way to wake their dark-haired teammate, and Blake never really felt like arguing the point. Yang really _could_ make a mean espresso.

By the time they’d left Beacon, she’d become so used to Yang’s treatment that she had trouble crawling out of bed without the soothing scent of morning caffeine. Ever the observant friend, Yang had immediately found a solution to Blake’s withdrawal, claiming that even if she couldn’t be there in person, she’d still be making her coffee. Every morning since, Blake woke to ‘Little Yang’s’ soft beeping, telling her the day had begun.

Patting the little contraption’s casing, Blake took the now-filled cup and raised it to her lips. The hot liquid hit her tongue, making the Faunus woman feel more alive by the second.

Gripping the cup against the cold air, Blake went through her morning routine, finding task after completely insignificant task that simply had to be done. Bills that needed paying, shopping lists to check, another load of laundry to toss into the machine. Anything to delay the inevitable trip that, after last night, Blake was just too mortified to make.

Blake’s face went hot as the conversation outside the pub ran through her head. It ... it really wasn’t what she expected. Some part of her always assumed her teammates saw her ears as a novelty, or just a part of her being a Faunus – no more significant than Yang’s blonde hair or Weiss’ scar. Being a Faunus – the discrimination, the prejudice, the Fang – it defined much of her life, but the ears themselves were just one more thing that marked her as non-human. It hadn’t occurred to her that Yang might see them as anything more.

‘... _what brought you to me._ ’

Gazing over at the tawny leather duster draped over her couch, Blake groaned, dreading the moment she would have to return the damn thing. Gathering the coat in her arms, she ran her nose through the white faux fur that trimmed the collar, breathing in the same scent from the night before, that strange mix of citrus and gunpowder. Yang’s scent. The same one that surrounded her when Yang slept beside her on the couch, blonde hair tickling Blake’s cheek while she read. The same scent that made her feel warm just by smelling it.

Throwing the coat around her shoulders, she let it settle around her, feeling almost like she was back in the grip of Yang’s encircling arms. Blake’s face reddened a little more as she relived Yang’s hug, held tight against her partner’s chest, warm and sa-

_What the hell am I doing?_

As if it was on fire, Blake tore off the coat and flung it back onto the couch. She stared at it for a good long minute, her back to the wall, watching, waiting to see if the damn thing moved, or the insane desire to wrap herself in Yang’s scent returned. When it didn’t, she sighed and buried her face in her hands.

This was ridiculous. _She_ was being ridiculous. She’d lived in the same damn room with Yang for years and the blonde had never affected her this way.

 _And the best cure for it is to pack this thing up, drop it off with Yang, and grab the dullest, most long-winded history text I can find._ Her mind made up, Blake carefully folded the coat so it wouldn’t crease, and went to get dressed.

Emerging from her bedroom in a pair of her warmer jeans and her darkest sweater, Blake gathered Yang’s duster back into her arms, careful to keep the fur collar as far away from her nose as she could. Stopping only to shrug into her own coat, she slipped out her door into the bright winter morning, one end of a white knit scarf tossed jauntily over one shoulder. Narrowing her eyes against the glare of the morning sun, she shifted her hat to hide her ears before striding into the snow-covered town, enjoying the brisk morning air.

* * *

Weiss scanned her reflection one more time as the doorbell rang. Concealer here, a bit of blush there, and you could hardly tell she’d been crying _._ Indulging in a bit of shameless vanity, she checked her make-up again, fixing her lipstick before accepting that she was just making excuses not to leave. Adjusting her dress, she made her way across her apartment to the continuously ringing door.

 _No one ever accused her of patience,_  Weiss mused, finding a bouncing Ruby hammering away at her doorbell. Back in her usual corset and combat skirt, the red-and-black ball of energy pounded the small button, her fur-lined winter cloak – red, of course – flapping behind her.

“Please don’t break it. Again,” Weiss drawled, instantly regretting it as she pulled her coat tighter around her as she locked up. _Dammit._ She didn’t mean to sound so testy.

“You were taking forever,” Ruby beamed, oblivious as she grabbed the other girl’s hand and dragging her down the hall.

“I needed to freshen up,” Weiss said, feigning vanity. She wasn’t about to admit that it had taken five minutes just to convince herself not to hide under the covers and hope Ruby gave up. Frankly, she’d known it was merely a pipe dream. Ruby never gave up.

“Yeah well, you always look great, Weiss.”

Nodding, Weiss wondered mildly which jackass kept lodging arrows in her heart. Ignoring the stabbing pains from Ruby’s latest compliment, she decided it was time to change the subject.

“What are we looking for, exactly?”

Ruby’s head dipped as she shrunk in on herself, the boundless energy finally ebbing a little. “I still need to get Yang’s present.”

Weiss sighed. Trust Ruby to leave everything until the last minute. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas, or were you planning to just wander aimlessly?”

Ruby slumped a little more, guilt at waiting this long plain on her face. “Wander.”

“You know Yang already found you something perfect.”

Ruby drooped even further, looking despondent as she shuffled down the street, knowing Weiss was probably right. Yang had the remarkable ability to find the greatest Christmas presents you could hope for – even if you hadn’t known that was what you’d wanted.

She had a knack for finding the perfect gift, and managed to be completely unaware of the other girls’ constant efforts to outdo her. One year back at Beacon, Blake and Weiss had even convinced Ruby to hunt down Yang’s presents ahead of time, in order to gain some little bit of an edge, leading to a month-long present-hiding war between the sisters. In the end, Yang had simply found more and more ingenious places to hide her gifts. Eventually, Weiss had given up in the face of overwhelming odds, and finished her shopping far in advance.

Looking over at the younger girl, Weiss saw how down she was.  _If she slumps any more, she’ll crack her spine._  Ruby started to turn to look at the older girl, and Weiss snapped her head up to avoid meeting her eyes.

“I promise I won’t leave it until so late next year. Help me? Please?”

Not willing to subject herself to Ruby’s puppy eyes twice in one day, Weiss kept her gaze straight ahead. “Fine, but I’m only helping to make sure you don’t get Yang a bag of cookie dough. Where are we headed first?”

Ruby beamed. “There’s this jewelry store and I think I found a new piece for her motorcycle and...”

Letting the ever-chirping girl drag her forward, Weiss swallowed, the feeling of Ruby’s hand in hers making her stomach roil. And yet, there was still that familiar flutter in her chest, the one she got whenever Ruby touched her, when she smiled, when she ...

_Might as well enjoy this while it lasts._

Lengthening her stride, she caught up with her partner, ready to brave the holiday chaos side-by-side.


	6. White Lady - Redux

_2 ounces of dry gin, a half-ounce of triple-sec, and a half-ounce of lemon juice. Add egg whites if you're feeling particularly masochistic._

"Come on, Weiss!" Ruby whined, bouncing around like an overactive puppy.

Weiss sighed, one gloved hand rubbing at the bridge of her nose. After the fourth store Ruby dragged her into – and the fortieth 'gentle' rejection of Ruby's horrible gift ideas – Weiss was truly getting tired of this ordeal. It didn't help that every time Ruby bounced, which was often, her corset lifted her already annoyingly larger assets and drew Weiss' eyes to the lovely, forbidden sight.

 _Wonderful. I've found my own personal torment of Tantalus._ Forcing herself not to look, Weiss followed the other girl in strained silence. When she didn't respond, Ruby turned to look, staring hard into the heiress' face. Weiss tried to ignore her, up until Ruby nearly brained herself on a tree branch.

"What is it Ruby?" Weiss asked, trying to infuse some energy into the question.

"I wanna eat a snowman."

Weiss jerked to a halt, staring incredulously as she tried to find some way that sentence made sense.

Ignoring her confusion, Ruby grabbed Weiss' hand, hauling her down the street to a coffee shop squeezed alongside a second-hand bookstore. Dragged roughshod through the door, Weiss stumbled to a halt, finding herself overwhelmed as the shop barraged her senses.

Someone had transplanted a log cabin into the heart of the city, defying the laws of physics to cram it into the small storefront. The room was a medley of browns and creams, with little red and white displays celebrating the season sprinkled throughout the packed space. Coffee, chocolate, and peppermint filled the air, mixing with the scent of baking cookies that wafted through the kitchen's open door. Large ovens sat against one of the back walls, releasing waves of heat as they revealed just-finished trays of steaming pastries. The warmth of the room enveloped her, drying the wisps of snow still clinging to her clothes and hair. The chatter of the other customers and the methodical, rapid banter of the workers was quaint rather than hectic, warming the parts of Weiss that the oven's heat could never reach.

Weiss had barely pulled off her cap and gloves before Ruby corralled her into the line. The red-cloaked girl immediately began pouring over the menu, practically drooling on the glass displays. Weiss watched and fought to hide her smile. There was something simply adorable about Ruby's unbridled enthusiasm, a happiness that the heiress had always found infectious. Making their way down the line, they gave their orders to the scruffy young man behind the counter. Nodding, a bored-looking young woman whipped their drinks into shape with detached ease, dodging the other servers with a frantic grace. Reaching into her bag, Weiss was halfway to pulling out her wallet when she felt Ruby's hand on her arm.

"Oh, no. Today is my treat," the younger girl beamed up at her, handing her card to the scruffy man before Weiss could object.

"Thank you, but-"

"No buts. I still owe you for the taxi," she said. "And for taking care of me last night."

Weiss winced as her insides knotted. _If you only knew ..._

Without thinking, Weiss turned and head for the pickup counter. She grabbed their drinks – and a disturbingly large, frosted snowman cookie for Ruby – from the stone slab counter and ducked through the crowd. The younger woman was already outside, breathing puffs of steam into the air while she waited. Downing her peppermint hot chocolate and beheading her snowman, Ruby practically glowed as she returned to leading Weiss through the town.

Sipping from her own cardboard cup, Weiss strolled behind the other girl, nodding absently at Ruby's constant chatter. The tightness in her shoulders began to lessen, the caffeine working its way through her system. Suddenly, Ruby twirled around, bent over to stare up into Weiss' face.

"You feeling better?" Ruby asked, walking backwards so she could look Weiss in the eyes.

Mid-sip, Weiss lowered her cup and watched the younger girl, only partly to see if she would slam the back of her head into a signpost. But no, Ruby sensed the oncoming danger and a quick pirouette pulled her away from the potential concussion.

"I can always tell when something's bothering you," she continued. "You get this cute little line between your eyes."

As if summoned, the tension banished by the latte and the warmth of the coffee shop came rushing back.

"Yeah, just like that!" Ruby said, turning back and darting into a brightly lit boutique.

 _To be fair,_ Weiss thought as she watched her leave, _It_ was _working until she opened her mouth._ Rubbing her forehead and not bothering to hide her scowl, Weiss followed, tapping the snow and ice off her boots before walking into the store.

An electronic jingle heralded her into the boutique, making the woman behind the counter glance up at the door. Apparently deciding the two young women weren't likely to make off with her merchandise, she huffed, returning to her work. Mannequins lined the walls of the store, sleek dresses cascading down sculpted curves and pooling at the wire bases. Everything was soft colors and gentle lights, encouraging customers to stay, relax, and buy.

Weiss couldn't help but be surprised. The rest of the team had to practically force Ruby into any outfit she couldn't fight in, not to mention her abject hatred of 'lady-stilts.' _Honestly, I never thought her taste would skew towards something like this_.

To Ruby, her only important possession was the weapon she kept sheathed at her back, spending more time modifying and adjusting the sniper scythe than most people ever spent on their own appearance. Inevitably, Weiss' partner would emerge from the tinkering sessions covered in oil and steel shavings, wearing a cheshire grin and talking the ear off anyone who'd listen about her newest modification.

And while she'd rather die than admit it, that single-mindedness and enthusiasm had always been one of the things that drew Weiss to the younger girl. It might be annoying at times, but at least it was a cute sort of annoying.

Following her little grease monkey, Weiss slid between rows of clothing, following along until Ruby stopped before a particularly tall mannequin set against the wall.

"I was thinking," the younger girl started, peering at the gold-colored gown dangling from the plastic woman, "I could get them to do something for Yang. She wears nice clothes sometimes. What dress do you get for the person who blows up half the clubs she goes into?"

"It was only the one club," Weiss corrected absently, her attention draw by something nagging at the corner of her eye.

Tucked away in a corner stood a petite plastic woman, one alabaster arm resting on her cocked hip, the other arrogantly fixing her coiffed black wig. An azure dress hung from the mannequin, sparkling as the soft lights of the boutique touched it. The slit hem moved with the air from the heating system, swaying every so often above the plastic girl's metal base. The gown was downright beautiful.

Even better: it was in Weiss' colors.

"That we know of," Ruby said, dragging Weiss' attention back to the golden dress. "Anyway, what d'you think? You're better at this kind of stuff than I am."

She shrugged, freely admitting Weiss' expertise. It was the voice of someone who was utterly disinterested, but willing to humor your strange obsession. It was the same voice Weiss knew she used when Ruby went on about Crescent Rose. Well, the same voice she used when she was actually willing to tolerate Ruby's love for her weapon.

"I think she should love it," Weiss said, impressed that Ruby had actually managed to find something so distinctly ... well, outside her comfort zone. Then again, for Yang it did make some sense. The sisters had always been close, maintaining a happy relationship that many siblings lacked. There was very little either woman wouldn't do for the other, something that always made Weiss a little jealous. Growing up in _that_ house, it would have been nice to have someone to commiserate with. Someone who could make her feel less ... alone. Someone other than a beloved, much older sister who only came home a few times a year.

As Ruby bound over to the austere woman at the counter, Weiss turned back to the gorgeous blue dress, her fingers itching to run down the sparkling fabric. Looking at the tag, Weiss' brows jumped when saw how much the shop was asking for. Not that she couldn't afford it. Hell, she could probably buy half the store if she really wanted to. All she'd have to do was tap into her trust fund.

Sighing, she stepped away from the gorgeous gown, getting it out of sight and finding it harder to get out of her mind. It was a great dress, but it wasn't worth the cost of using any of her trust fund to get it.

She had made it a point over the past few years to rely on the family's money as little as possible. Her pay as a huntress served her well enough, and she'd hate to break her streak just for a pretty dress. It wasn't that Weiss felt she didn't deserve the money – her father owed her at least that much for everything she put up with – but the idea of using anything from him set her teeth on edge.

At least she managed to force better hiring practices, not to mention fair wages, for the new winery. After a few suggestions masked with legalese and public relations voodoo, she justified the changes as goodwill gestures, meant to discourage anyone trying to build a successor to the White Fang. A small increase in payroll expenses was barely a drop in the bucket for the company, especially if it meant less raids on dust shipments. She just had to waste half a month arguing her case before they let her do it.

Company meetings always left her feeling soiled and slimy. Only scalding hot showers ever washed away the distilled sleaze that oozed from the corporation's management. Callous judgments built on cost-benefit analysis had made her want to strangle more than a few of the company's accountants and most of the marketing department at one point or another. Still, it was worth it to see the approval on Blake's face when Weiss had shown her the changes. She might never be able to make up for everything her family's company had done, but it was a start.

Unfortunately, that had also meant growing increasingly guilty about using her trust fund. She knew Blake wouldn't give her a hard time over it, but the idea of spending Schnee money on herself ... it didn't feel right. The last time Weiss had even touched those accounts, she'd backed the start-up costs for the restaurant Velvet was now running with her husband. At least that way the blood money would do some good, and the fact that it was helping her Faunus friends just made it all the more satisfying.

Shaking her head, Weiss banished thoughts of vacation days spent in board meetings. Forcing a smile, she steeled herself and rejoined the ecstatic young woman currently harassing the sales clerk.

* * *

Blake sighed, body and brain still debating whether to climb the stairs leading to Yang's apartment. Her head was making a very persuasive case – least of which that she was standing on the sidewalk staring wide-eyed at a staircase, and probably looked like a complete lunatic. Eventually, she _had_ to return Yang's coat. She might as well get it over with. It was just like ripping off a band-aid. Had to get done some time.

All excellent points, and completely, utterly useless. No matter the reason, her body simply refused to move. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, and still she couldn't manage to put one foot in front of the other.

Unfortunately, the trek from her apartment to the one Yang shared with Ruby hadn't given her much time to think. Walking along the city streets, Blake was forced to dodge and weave to avoid the bustle of the year-end shopping, as agitated shoppers rushed from door to door. Their urgency and panic was only made worse by the mere two weeks they had before the holidays, and she could practically her them promising that they'd start the process earlier next year.

But dodging haggard-looking mothers leading troupes of small children hadn't given her much time to plan. The leather duster still hung over one arm, the heavy cloth warming the skin beneath it.

_Just get it over with already._

Taking a deep breath, Blake finally forced one foot forward, cursing herself all the while. Eyes shut, she made her way up the stairs, still trying in vain to convince herself that this was all one particularly long streak of idiocy. _Nothing_ had happened the night before. There was absolutely _no_ reason for her to be this nervous.

_Maybe, but you know exactly how you're going to feel when she opens that door._

Stopping, Blake seriously considered just ringing the doorbell and making a run for it. She could probably make it out of sight before Yang got to the door. Of course, then she'd have to explain why she didn't bother to stick around, and she'd still have to face Yang eventually.

Giving up, she took a breath, feeling the cold air bite as it traveled across her teeth. Shaking her head to clear it, she stepped forward.

...and promptly smacked her skull on the sisters' apartment door. Swearing quietly, she rubbed her forehead and jammed her thumb against the doorbell. _This really isn't starting well._

After half a minute, the door flew open, revealing a very wet Yang, her hair matted and damp and clinging to every bit of exposed skin. The blonde dripped on the carpet, naked except for the dark, gun-metal gray of her right arm, and a towel wrapped haphazardly around her body. A towel, Blake noticed, that was quickly losing the struggle to restrain Yang’s very prominent curves. A towel which was definitely a little too short, and gave her a wonderful view of the water running down Yang’s long legs ... _no. Eyes up._

Straining to keep her attention on Yang’s face, Blake found the girl staring back at her with an odd expression, head cocked as she waited.

“... I brought your coat back,” Blake said with Jaune-worthy awkwardness, cursing the distraction of water running down between Yang’s wet, glistening, surprisingly perky ...  _dammit_. Mentally kicking herself, she held out Yang’s coat, thankfully hiding most of the blonde’s exposed skin from view.

Yang grinned. “Thanks. Come on in.” Pulling the woolen duster out of Blake’s hands and tossing it onto the rack by the door, her partner stepped aside. There was just enough room to let the Faunus squeeze through the entryway, brushing against Yang as she did. Feeling her face start to flush, Blake stalked past the blonde, doing her best to look stoic.

“Sorry,” Yang said, closing the door behind her. “You caught me coming out of the shower. You mind waiting a sec?”

“It’s no problem,” the Faunus replied, anxious to get Yang into something a little more ... well, pretty much _anything_ at all would be an improvement.

“Just be one minute!” Yang darted back into her bedroom, leaving the door open behind her. Turning the corner, the dripping blonde vanished as she dove into her bathroom, lobbing the now-damp towel out the door to land haphazardly in a clothes hamper.

Blake sat down on the leather couch, doing her best not to think about Yang, completely naked on the other side of the wall, the water still running down her ...  _dammit._

Taking the most recent of many calming breaths, she focused on slowing her overactive heart rate, and pulled out the most recent addition to her library. Flipping to the bookmark she’d left nestled mid-way through chapter four, Blake pretended to read, counting her breaths until her pulse slowed to something resembling its normal pace.

 _See?_ she thought, eyes unfocused as she stared at her book, too worked up to actually read. _It’s just Yang, like always. Just Yang ... in practically no clothes, her-_

Clenching her fingers around the edge of the book, she smacked the small paperback into her head, as if it might knock loose the completely inappropriate thoughts about her partner. _Seriously, what is wrong with me?_

Yang had fallen asleep next to her before, and she’d never reacted like this. Hell, they’d lived together for four years, in a _dorm room_. She’d seen Yang in a towel before. Several times, and it had _never_ affected her like this. She had occasionally admired her partner’s looks ...

Fine. If she was being honest with herself, maybe a bit more often than ‘occasionally.’ Yang was attractive, no real reason to deny it. And there _had_ been little bouts of mock-flirting over the past few years, but nothing like this.

_Yeah, well, she’s never given you a heartfelt speech about how much you mean to her before._

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Yang half-shouted. The blonde was still toweling off her mane when she stepped out of the bathroom in her usual short-shorts and a scandalously low-zipped orange hoodie. The sleeves only came down past her elbows, leaving the skin of her left arm and the metal of her right one bare. The zipper floated somewhere around her navel, exposing a huge swath of still-wet skin. The blonde had apparently bullied the laws of physics into line; the fluffy cloth defied gravity to stay plastered to Yang’s bust, limiting the exposure to a massive amount of cleavage.

“It’s not a problem,” Blake said.  _Not that I’m complaining, but would it kill you to put on a shirt?_

_Wait ... ‘not that I’m complaining?’ Where the hell did that come fr-_

“You okay? You look pretty red,” Yang said, bending over to place her left hand against Blake’s forehead, feeling for a temperature and giving the Faunus woman a miraculous view down her top. “Sure you didn’t catch a cold last night?” Even after she pulled away, Yang kept gazing into the Faunus woman’s face, her worried expression mixed with something Blake couldn’t identify.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine,” she said, forcing herself to meet Yang’s eyes. “I’m sorry last night didn’t turn out like you hoped.”

“I’m not worried. Seems like Ruby’s out of the dumps at least.” Yang flopped down beside the Faunus and gave her a very cocky grin. “Plus, it didn’t turn out so bad.”

Yang chose that moment to snuggle into the curve of Blake’s side, putting her head in exactly the same spot as she had the night before. Caught off-guard, Blake went completely rigid as the blonde cuddled against her.

Looking down, she was treated to the sight of Yang’s long mass of hair splayed out across her back, the ends of the mess falling down her shoulders and across her chest. Her eyes tracked across the hard muscle and metal of her arms, still visible under the thin hoodie, to the slope of her neck beneath that mass of hair. She followed the path of skin down, over her collarbones to the soft, perky swell of her-

Blake’s eyes snapped back up to the opposite wall as blood rushed to her cheeks.

Still pressed against the Faunus woman’s side, Yang turned her head, looking straight into her face. Silently, she returned her head to the hollow of Blake’s shoulder, a demonically cherubic smile beaming from her face.

 _Oh, you evil little ..._ Blake swore silently as the temptress pressed her chest even more conspicuously against Blake’s side. Of course, Yang _would_ manage to pick this particular moment to start teasing her. Not that it was _her_ fault; even if Yang’s sense of humor leaned towards being completely insufferable, she wasn’t responsible for whatever was going wrong with Blake’s head. Normally, this kind of behavior would get an eye-roll, or a light smack on the head from whatever book she was reading.

_Still, I won’t survive much longer if she keeps this up._

Bringing her arm around the taller girl’s shoulder, the dark-haired woman pulled Yang even closer against her side. Letting her arm drop, she slid her hand up the side of the loose sweatshirt, fingers tracing the curve of Yang’s hip. The blonde arched her back a little, then started giggling as Blake tickled at her tight stomach.

Laughing, Yang bounded forward off the couch, Blake’s arm sliding out of her clothes as she stood up.

“Well, that answers my question. You have plans for tonight?” Yang asked, zipping the front of the hoodie up, hiding most of her cleavage. Plunging her hands into the pockets of the sweatshirt, she stared down at Blake, a proud smile twisting the corner of her mouth.

“What question?” Blake asked, still unsure how to handle the woman who had been so thoroughly molesting her side.

“You. Like. Me.”

A stammered denial was halfway to Blake’s lips before it died. Yang wasn’t ... wrong. Not exactly.

If she was completely honest with herself, there had always been some level of attraction between them, probably ever since Blake had chosen Yang for her partner out of all the other first-year students. Even at a glance, it was obvious the boisterous blonde was a more than capable fighter, and hadn’t seemed like the kind of person to pry too closely. She’d been exactly what Blake needed right then: someone with absolutely no ties to anything resembling her past. Someone ... happy.

It had been a good choice, too. Yang had gone above and beyond anything she could have expected, given up so much to protect her. She couldn’t have asked for a better partner, or a better friend.

And if there was the occasional moment where it seemed like they might be a little more ... well, they _were_. They were _partners_ , they’d helped each other in the heat of battle more times than they could count. They were close, closer than normal people. They had to be. But that didn’t mean ...

Still smiling, Yang sat on the other end of the couch, thankfully keeping some room between them and not making the whole mess any more uncomfortable.

“Blake,” she said, her voice far quieter and softer than usual. “I know you haven’t felt comfortable enough to actually date someone in ... pretty much the entire time I’ve known you.”

“I haven’t,” Blake said, answering on instinct before she could stop herself.

“I know, and I know you have your reasons. It’s why I haven’t asked. But I think we both know that there’s _something_ between us.” Yang ducked her head for a second, fiddling with her hands in her lap. When she looked back up, Blake could have sworn she saw two spots of color in her cheeks. “I think we’ve both known it’s been there for a while.”

“... you could have led with that, rather than the whole ‘girl-next-door’ routine.”

As Yang grinned, Blake was given another excellent view of her chest as the blonde leaned forward. “Yeah, but you’re pretty cute when you try so hard not to stare at my boobs.”

Blake’s glare did absolutely nothing to stop the smile spreading across Yang’s face. Scooching forward on the couch, Yang moved just close enough to reach out, her hand closing gently over the dark-haired woman’s.

“Look, I’m really not trying to push you into anything. Just, after last night, I wanted to say that I’m open to the idea. If you are.” Yang smiled again, this time without any of her normal mischief. “If not, I won’t bring it up again.”

Blake swallowed, her mouth dry.

When she’d first joined Beacon, there’d been good reasons to avoid getting to close to anyone. Her past, everything she’d done, her decision to pass as a regular human ... and Adam specifically. Sun definitely hadn’t helped matters. But now, if she was honest with herself, she wanted ...

She didn’t know what she wanted. She tried to think, come up with _some_ answer she could give Yang, and somehow every answer seemed like the wrong one. What was she supposed to say to Yang – her friend, her partner, the girl who somehow always knew when something was bothering her? Who always had some awful joke on hand to cheer her up, or even just distract her. Solid, reliable Yang, who’d go head-to-head with an ursa just for the fun of it. Who’d given up ... given up a lot for her. She wanted ...

“Yang?”

“Yeah?”

She could do this. After all, this was Yang. Even if it didn’t work out between them, _that_ wouldn’t change. Yang knew enough about her history to take things slow. She wouldn’t rush things if Blake asked her not to. She’d wait on anything Blake wasn’t ready for. She could trust Yang for that.

Hell, she already knew what the blonde’s answer would be.

_Which is exactly why this is so difficult._

Taking a deep breath, Blake cleared her throat. Once she was sure her voice wouldn’t waver, she opened her mouth and asked, “Do you want to have dinner tonight? With me?”

Yang beamed. Bounding back up and bringing Blake with her, Yang shepherded the Faunus from the apartment, ignoring her stammered attempts to object. Twirling Blake out into the hall, Yang swung the door halfway shut, leaving only her head peeking around the edge.

“I’ll pick you up around eight, okay?” she said, grinning as she shoved Blake’s coat into her arms. “Wear something nice.”

“Yang, wait-”

Without another word, the blonde slipped the door shut, leaving Blake standing on the doormat.

 _Dammit,_ Blake cursed, wondering exactly how Yang managed to get to her so easily. Was this how she’d behaved with her previous dates? It definitely explained the turnover rate. Yang had worked through a series of on-again off-again relationships during their first couple years at Beacon, but most only lasted a month at most. At the time, she hadn’t really paid too much attention to it – there were other things that needed her attention far more than the romantic antics of hormonal teenagers. _And now I’m starting to wish I had._

... it couldn’t be _that_ bad. Then again ...

_What have I gotten myself into?_

The door swung back open, and Yang’s head popped out to peek at Blake.

“By the way, you may not want to stand in the street for so long. It gives me too much time to come up with ways to torment you.” Grinning sadistically, Yang began to close the door. “You know, unless you want me to.”

Listening to the evil laughter through the wall, only one coherent thought was left in Blake’s mind.

_Dammit._


	7. Sweet Blonde - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang rises to the challenge to give Blake a night to remember.

_Mix a weissbier, chimay white, and hard cider. Incredibly comforting, and just a little feisty._

“Which do you think is more likely to cause heart attacks?” Yang asked, holding up two dresses with plunging necklines.

The blonde woman had decided that if she was going through with this date, she was going to do it right. Blake’s pacing outside the sisters’ window had made her interest, and her nervousness, fairly obvious. Her responses to Yang’s teasing had only made it clearer. Yang felt a little guilty actually, especially since Blake had tried so hard not to stare.

She smiled, remembering Blake’s deer-in-the-headlights look when the blonde pulled her little trick with the towel. 

 _I’m really enjoying this, aren’t I?_  

Yang couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited for a date. The whole plan had been on her mind the entire day, trying to come up with dinner choices, find a restaurant that wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of last night’s bar, decide if a cab or her bike was more appropriate. Blake being her date – the fact that she was already a friend, already someone she cared about – probably counted for some of it.

Shifting into a better light, Yang switched between the dresses, still trying to decide which was more likely to give the Faunus woman apoplexy.

“Go with the red one,” Ruby mused, half-looking over at her sister.

“Surprise, surprise. Ruby prefers the red.”

“The red says ‘I wanna have fun, and I’m trying to make you blush,’” the younger sister called from the bed, ignoring Yang’s jab at her color preferences. “The black says ‘this’ll look great on your floor in the morning ... and I’m trying to make you blush.’”

Yang nodded, checking the outfits one last time. Ruby was probably right. The black one was probably a little too much for a first date. Definitely too much for Blake.

“Plus, the red’s hem is high enough that you could probably still take your bike,” Ruby continued, absent her usual energy. “Blake would have to hold on, which  _is_ what you want, right?”

Yang beamed at her sister, imagining the look on Blake’s face, trying to find a safe place for her hands with the scarlet gown. Ruby really was the best little sister, taking the news in stride, even with her dating their teammate. In fact, Ruby almost seemed _too_ okay with it. There hadn’t been any bouncing or even nervousness at the idea of her sister and one of her best friends going out. Yang grimaced as she looked back at the mirror. Maybe her baby sister was getting a little desensitized. Her dating history might be a bit ... storied, but still, it wasn’t  _that_ bad.

Shrugging, Yang pushed the thought aside for future Yang to deal with. Hanging the black number back up, Yang moved behind her changing screen and stripped. Holding her hair out of the way with one hand, she slid into the crimson silk, feeling the sheath hug her form in all the right places and leaving just enough to the imagination. The halterneck hung from her throat, the two folds of crimson cupping her breasts as they fell down, fusing together just above her midriff. The high slit showed off her thighs as she moved, skin flashing behind scarlet cascades.

Yang had to hand it to her, Ruby might not be fashionable when it came to dressing herself, but she definitely knew what looked good on her big sis.

Stepping out from behind the screen, Yang grinned at her reflection, her chaotic mass of blonde tangles completely out of sync with the gorgeous dress. Grabbing a brush, three different curlers, and a bottle of god-knows-what that Pyrrha had given her, Yang began the torturous process of managing her unruly mane.

“How did the shopping trip go?”

“Fine.” When Ruby didn’t say anything more, Yang glanced over at her sister. She was still lying on motionless the bed, gazing blankly up at the ceiling.

“Really? You couldn’t think of any more obvious way of saying something was wrong?”

“... Weiss isn’t happy.”

Stopping mid-pull, Yang rolled her eyes as sarcastically as possible. Weiss in a bad mood was more an expectation than anything. Directing her most withering stare at her younger sister, Yang drawled, “Stop the presses. Alert the council. Sound the alarm.”

“I’m serious, Yang. It’s not the usual tsun-tsun thing she does. She’s really upset.”

“You know she hates it when we call her that,” Yang put down the brush, grabbing a curling iron and attacking the unruly stands. “Did you try actually _asking_ her what was wrong?”

Ruby’s silence was answer enough.

“Do you have any idea what might be wrong?”

More silence.

“Was it something _you_ did?” Yang asked, frowning as she tried to get one of her locks to straighten.

If Ruby could have gotten quieter, she would have.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, Yang.”

The blonde woman sighed, moving from her mirror to sit beside her sister. “You know Blake will understand if you need me to cancel.”

Ruby swatted her sister’s leg, the joking rebuke meant to reassure Yang that her happy-go-lucky sister was still in there. “You’ve been quietly crushing on her for over three years. Go blow her mind.”

Patting her sister’s head, Yang stood, putting the finishing touches on her hair. Whatever the newest problem between the two girls was, it would have to wait. She had plans, and at the moment they didn’t involve playing therapist to her two teammates. Add another one to the list of problems for future Yang.

“Where are my nice boots?”

“Hall closet, second rack.” Ruby rattled off.

Yang grabbed the footwear, sliding her long legs into the leather and slipping the zipper up the side. She planned on switching to heels when she got to the restaurant, but fancy shoes and motorcycles didn’t mix well – something she’d learned seconds after her first attempt to drive the Bumblebee in heels. The boots were an eventual compromise between her unwillingness to drive anything else and the need for something functional to wear in polite society. Coming up to just below her knees, the black patent leather was flashy enough to work for most ‘formal’ situations. Frankly, they were also far more practical in case something went wrong, and with _her_ team, something usually went wrong

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Yang said, grabbing her tan duster from the rack. “I need to give a certain someone a heart attack. Or three.”

“Have fun,” Ruby called absent-mindedly as Yang strode out the door, scarlet gown whipping around her legs.

* * *

It was a good twenty minute ride from the sisters’ apartment to Blake’s. Despite the construction boom in Vale over the past few years, it was somehow even more difficult to find a halfway-decent place inside the city, and Yang still suspected that Blake being a Faunus had limited her choices. Blake hadn’t said anything, and it seemed like she liked her place, but Yang had made her partner promise to bring her apartment-hunting if she ever decided to move.

Scanning the street, Yang saw her date long before she reached the corner. Blake stood in the winter air, her little black dress tugged by the wind, even under her open coat. The skirt swirled loosely, showing off well-toned legs in black heels. Her dark hair was gathered into a loose side bun, baring the nape of her neck and making her feline ears even more prominent. Yang fought to keep from staring at the Faunus as each gust of air teased her hem.

There was something infinitely touching that Blake had gone this far for her. _Even better, it looks like I wasn’t the only one excited for tonight._

Pulling up alongside the girl, Yang popped the visor of her honey-yellow helmet, making sure to speak clearly from behind the mouth guard. “You ready to go?”

A silent nod, and Blake stepped over to the Bumblebee and took the helmet the blonde offered.

“I’d hang on to something,” Yang said as her date mounted the back of the bike, sliding the spare helmet down over her hair. Two strong, thin arms wrapped themselves around Yang’s waist, as careful as if she was hugging a bomb.

“You do know I don’t break that easily,” Yang teased, starting up the engine of her beloved bike.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Blake growled, tightening her grip. “You already had plenty of fun back at your place. I’m dreading what you’ll do now that we’re on your favorite vibrator.”

Laughing, Yang felt the Bumblebee kick as it leapt into motion, her baby streaking across the pavement. Blake’s arms tightened around her middle and Yang grinned, imaging the glare Blake must be giving her and loving the feeling of the girl clinging to her back. Even through her duster, she could feel the curves of Blake’s body and the pressure of the other girl’s thighs against her own.

Finding their turn, Yang leaned into the curve, feeling the Faunus follow suit behind her as they darted down the side street. After years of riding with Yang, Blake knew to follow the momentum of the driver rather than fighting it, which was more than Yang could say for some of her former passengers. Letting the bike gather speed, the blonde felt Blake shift her arms for a better grip, accidentally brushing the lower curves of Yang’s breasts through her coat.

“... you’re not wearing a bra, are you?” Blake accused over the roar of the wind, sounding almost resentful.

“In this dress? Hell no,” Yang tossed back.

“You are wearing  _something_  under that coat, I hope?”

Yang smiled at the gentle teasing, happy that Blake was at least enjoying herself enough to make jokes, even sarcastic ones.

“You’ll see soon enough,” she promised, revving the engine as they tore down the street.

* * *

As they pulled up alongside the restaurant, Blake untangled herself from Yang, hopping off the cycle as the driver tossed the nearby valet her keys. Catching them expertly, the young man held out his hand for the girls’ helmets. Blake watched as Yang slowly drew hers from her head, and couldn’t help but stare as golden curls spilled across her shoulders. Blake wasn’t sure how, but Yang had managed to tame her unruly mane. Soft waves of gold caressed her form and slid down across her shoulders.

Shrugging off her coat, Yang stood there in a cascade of red silk over creamy skin. Long gloves ran up both arms past her elbows, covering the metal of her right arm and leaving her shoulders bare. The backless dress left the curve of Yang’s spine uncovered and just barely hid the line of her hips. Blake might have even believed it was a different woman, but for the scar or two that peeked out from behind the red silk. Her berserker was still there, under the flashy clothes and treated hair.

She was one of the most beautiful things Blake had ever seen, and it was obvious that Yang knew it.

_How the hell is that arrogance attractive?_

Yang gently handed her helmet to the stunned valet, whispering something to him that made his dropped jaw snap back up. Glancing over her shoulder, Yang met Blake’s eyes, before giving her the once-over in return. Blake could feel the blonde’s gaze appreciating every curve, the lines of her hips against her dress, the tension in her legs from the heels she wore. Smiling softly, the taller woman reached out for her hand, and together, they headed to their evening.

Their coats checked, Yang called her name to the harassed-looking maître d’. A young lapin Faunus materialized, leading the two women to past the throngs of waiting diners. Wading through the inevitable rounds of waitstaff, Blake and Yang contented themselves with silent glances, their legs occasionally brushing under the delightfully just-too-small table. Assured their food was on its way, Blake sipped at her beer while Yang swirled the parasol around her cocktail, neither immediately wanting to break the comfortable silence.

“So,” Blake said when the quiet threatened to grow awkward. “When did you know?”

“Know what?” Yang smiled innocently, biting the cherry off her umbrella.

“Yang.”

“Sorry,” she said, in a tone that made Blake sure she absolutely was _not_. “Your little trance when you sniffed my coat was a bit of a tip off,”

Blake bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to let Yang make her blush that easily. “Most felid Faunus have a strong sense of smell.”

“So I smell that good?”

Blake had to stop herself before her teeth drew blood. Looking like trickster sprite from a child’s story, Yang beamed, clearly all-too-pleased with her date’s reaction. The blonde was about to earn herself a kick under the table when their waiter reappeared, sliding a slightly bloody porterhouse and a plate of salmon risotto before the two women. Their stomachs growling, the two shared a look and dived into their food.

Yang was halfway through her steak before Blake managed to ask the question that had nagged at her since the morning. “Is this weird for you? I know you keep most of your dating outside our group of friends, but ...” Blake trailed off, letting the thought remain half-finished.

“I’ve dated friends before, when I knew it wouldn’t get too complicated,” Yang tossed out casually, taking a sip of her drink. Looking up at Blake, she smirked. “Let’s just say Pyrrha still keeps some secrets from Jaune.”

“So you have dated other ... huntresses, before,” Blake murmured, trying to suppress the image of Yang and the redhead sleeping in each other’s arms.

“It’s been known to happen.” Putting down her fork, Yang looked across the table, suddenly looking sheepish. “I’ve actually kinda had a thing for you for a while.”

“How long is a while?”

“Three years?”

Blake’s hand slipped, sending her fork screeching across her plate. Recovering, she glared across the table at Yang. “You had ‘a thing’ for me for  _three years_ , and you never said anything?”

“I try to avoid dating anyone I can’t lock out of my life,” the brawler shrugged. “It’s easier that way if it doesn’t end well. Plus, I wasn’t entirely sure you’d be interested. Like I said, I know you pretty well, and it takes a _lot_ to get you to open up.”

Blake frowned and looked down at her plate. Yang ... probably had a point. Granted, she had good reasons for being guarded, keeping up a few extra walls. But ...

But Yang had never given her a reason to.

“You’re my first.” Blake muttered, forcing herself to admit something she’d never expected to. “Huntress. And, well ...”

“Female date?”

“... yeah.” She knew Yang wasn’t what you’d call ‘picky’ when it came to her dates’ genders, and Blake herself had always known she was bi. But after her time in the White Fang, she hadn’t wanted to get close to anyone, much less intimate with someone. “Not my first ... you know.”

“From the way you avoid talking about Adam, that was fairly obvious.”

Blake managed to keep herself from flinching at the mention of her former partner. Taking a breath, she looked down, and forced her white-knuckled hand to release its death grip on her fork. Bringing her head back up, Blake found Yang staring at her, guilt in her eyes.

“Sorry. That probably wasn’t the best idea,” Yang winced, knowing she’d made a mistake in saying that name.

Blake took a second to answer, trying to get her jaw to loosen. The reaction wasn’t Yang’s fault, although she was right – definitely a bad idea. Even with Taurus dead and gone, buried in the woods in an unmarked grave, they still had to carry the scars he'd left behind. Both her and Yang.

“It’s not that,” Blake said, her voice coming out lower than even she’d intended. “Yang, I ... what you did, for me ...”

Yang reached across the table to hold Blake’s hand with her left, a reassuring warmth spreading up Blake’s arm. “One of these days, you’ll believe me when I say I don’t blame you.” Yang glanced down at her right hand, flexing the metal fingers beneath the silk glove and curling them into a fist. “And this one hasn’t bothered me in years. Still needs the odd tune-up, but Weiss helps with that. It’s practically as good as new.”

“It’ll never be enough.”

Yang looked up, met Blake’s eyes, and squeezed her hand.

“Blake, If I could go back and do that night over, even knowing what would happen, even knowing I'd lose my arm, I’d still do it again,” she said, the last of her smile fading. “I mean, I'd be more careful, sure, and listen to you when you tried to warn me. Maybe make sure I at least broke his jaw this time. But if it came down to losing my arm or losing you, or Ruby, or Weiss ... it was worth it.”

 _I know you believe that,_ Blake thought, her jaw clenched. _And that’s what worries me._

Pulling her arm back to her plate, she nodded, still not sure what to say. This ... this wasn't the time for this. Yang didn't need the reminder, didn't need to relive that night, any more than she did. Not now. Not with Yang - loyal, dependable Yang - sitting across from her after going to all the trouble to make tonight the best it could be. Taking a bite of her salmon, she savored the subtle flavor of the pink flesh, letting the taste and the smell wipe the last traces of Adam’s ghost from her mind.

Dabbing at her mouth, Blake cleared her throat. “If we’re going to keep doing this, I need to get my own helmet. The normal one hurts my ears.”

“We’re not even done, and you’re already asking for a second date?” Yang teased gently, brushing her leg softly along Blake’s calf and smiling innocently when the Faunus jumped. Suddenly, Blake was doubly glad Yang had switched into heels, leaving those boots of hers with their coats. The feeling of warm skin on hers was intoxicating, and infinitely better than having to play with leather and buckles.

“I’m resigning myself to your love of that death trap.” The Faunus parried, with words and legs as she slipped her foot just out of Yang’s reach.

“I’ve never had a problem on Bumblebee,” her date said, feigning offense as she bit into the last of her steak.

“... I suppose it does have its advantages,” Blake admitted, remembering the feel of Yang’s back.

“Oh, it definitely does,” the blonde agreed, that infuriating and endearing smirk sliding back across her mouth. Sliding out from the table, Yang smoothed a wrinkle from her dress. “You finish up, and I’ll go ask if Velvet is in today.”

“...  _this_ is Velvet’s new place?” Blake looked around in surprise. Their schoolmate, after a very successful hunting career, had retired a year ago after marrying an up-and-coming chef. A rumored culinary genius, he was a master in the kitchen, but from the way he’d looked at their wedding Blake guessed he was of the absent-minded sort. Velvet had been ecstatic about their grand opening and invited all the old school pals from Beacon, but Team RWBY’s last mission forced the four to cancel.

Blake had planned to drop by, but hadn’t been able to find the time.  _Which means that’s another one I owe Yang. Somebody’s in top form today._ Blake stared after the blonde, enjoying the view of her magnificent back swishing in red silk, her blonde train swaying behind her. _Definitely top form._

Letting her mind wander, Blake didn’t notice the blonde’s return until she slid back into the chair opposite her. Immediately, Yang started to stroke Blake’s leg with her foot, causing the Faunus to roll her eyes and retreat back beyond her reach.

“She’s not here. Restaurant’s doing well enough that they decided to take a  _second_  honeymoon.” From almost any other human, Blake would have expected a crack about the mating habits of rabbits, but Yang was judiciously, and thankfully, silent.

The rest of the dinner went rather well. Surprisingly well. She’d known they wouldn’t have trouble finding things to talk about – they’d been partners, and friends long enough that first-date awkwardness wasn’t her biggest worry. Even Yang’s teasing wasn’t anything new, although it was definitely more inappropriate than it had been before. Still ...

Still, the entire time she expected something to go wrong. A Grimm attack, or a robbery, or even just another ignorant jackass who felt the need to announce his racism. Something about being in this place, openly admitting the possibility of romance, made it feel as if they were meeting each other again for the first time, and she just kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But in the end, nothing went wrong. Service was excellent, the conversation stayed bright and calm, and Blake even found herself starting to lower her guard. It was only after they finished dessert that it struck her – right there, in that moment, she was completely content. Happy. Relaxed.

Up until the point when Yang leaned across the table, and whispered six little words into Blake’s ear. Six little words that made her feline parts stand on end and her face turn crimson.

“You wanna get out of here?”

Silently, Blake clenched her hands beneath the table, and nodded.

* * *

On the drive back to Blake’s apartment, Yang could feel the change in the other woman. The death grip her passenger had held around her abs was gone. Now her arms gently wrapped around Yang’s middle as the Bumblebee purred beneath them. Loving the feeling of Blake’s breath against her neck, Yang briefly entertained making a few detours on their way home. Just to keep Blake pressed against her back a little longer. She might have, but giving Blake frostbite on their first date was probably a terrible idea. Resigning herself to their night’s end, Yang coasted the bike to a stop, dutifully walking her date up to the door of her building.

“Thank you, for tonight,” Blake smiled, looking almost as sad as Yang to see their date come to a close. The blonde stood there, watching the Faunus fiddle with her keys – and Blake _never_ ‘fiddled’ – both of them waiting for the other to make the first move. She finally met Yang’s eyes, her cheeks pink from embarrassment, her eyes begging the blonde to do what she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Lowering her lips to Blake’s, Yang kissed her with all the tenderness she could muster. The shorter woman leaned into her, hands coming up to run through blonde hair, trapping them both in the embrace. Yang tasted Blake on her lips, sorely tempted to press, to holder her closer, tighter. Forcing herself back, Yang broke away, their lips scant inches from each other. Resting her head against Blake’s, Yang waited as her desire ebbed, achingly slow as visions of that gorgeous body beneath hers flashed through her mind.

“You don’t have to leave,” her date whispered, her mouth reaching for Yang’s once more. Hating herself, Yang ducked her head, hands coming up to gently hold the smaller woman back. Blake’s eyes went wide. Pulling away, she looked as hurt as if Yang had slapped her.

“Blake, I’ve done  _this_ before,” Yang whispered, keeping her voice as soft as she could. “I don’t ... I don’t want another whirlwind romance or a one-night-stand. I want to really give this a shot.” She pulled Blake to her, holding the slimmer woman against her chest. Pushing a stray strand of ebony hair back into place, Yang leaned her head down to whisper in Blake’s ear.

“And I think,” she said, pausing to find the right words. “I think we’ve been friends a really long time. And I think it’s a probably good idea for us to take this slow.”

Blake was silent for a moment, before relaxing back into Yang's arms and leaning into the hug.

“I thought that too,” Blake said, nodding against her chest. “Not so sure right now.”

Chuckling, Yang leaned her head against Blake’s, only for her heart to stop as lips gently pressed against her collarbone.  Before she could say anything, the dark-haired woman started tracing kisses slowly up her neck, stopping just when she reached the line of Yang’s jaw.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” Blake whispered and stepped back towards the door.

Yang nodded, her voice catching. “Tomorrow.”

“You’re making me coffee,” the Faunus called to her retreating back. Yang, beaming like an idiot, stalked back to her bike, coat flapping as she slid atop the Bumblebee’s leather seat.

“I’ll be there.”


	8. Liquid Lust - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby confronts Weiss about her feelings, and Blake wakes to find a welcome visitor in her apartment.

_Half a bottle of Rosangel tequila and white wine each, mixed with orange and cranberry juices, and club soda. Mix in ice and assorted fruits, especially lemons, for an excellent punch – one that might end with your lover peeling you out of your clothes._

“Have fun,” Ruby called absent-mindedly as Yang strode out the door, the heels of her boots clicking as she walked down the hall.

Ruby just lay there and listened as her sister put distance between them. Staring past the ceiling, she found herself lost in thought, a myriad of voices and ideas swirling in her mind. Letting the tension in her body leave her, she rolled onto her side, curling into a ball against the pillows. Folding one cushion around her head, she waited, hoping it would shut out the thoughts plaguing her mind.

It didn’t.

Hurling the pillow at the wall, she frowned at the less-than satisfying thump.

She  _hated_  this. She hated lying there, wondering about Weiss, her brain spinning horrors and worst-case scenarios, all of them ending with her alone, abandoned by the person she cared about.

Weiss was freezing her out. There wasn’t any doubt about that. After days, weeks, of the two of them fighting and being on edge around each other, they had _finally_ had a moment together. They’d … well, there wasn’t any other word for it.

They’d made love. Weiss had made _love_ to her, and now she could barely look at her.

It didn’t make sense. None of it did. Ruby had thought about bringing it up, about trying to talk to Weiss, finding some answer to why Weiss could barely even look at her after their night together. But every time she got close, the other woman acted like she was a beowolf, dodging questions and putting as much distance between the two of them as she could.

 _This isn’t fair,_ Ruby thought, punching the bed. _It isn’t fair that this all goes wrong after one amazing night. It’s not fair that after_ everything _we’ve been through, I lose her friendship because of this._

Her hand slammed into the mattress with enough force to creak the boards beneath it. Her knuckles cracked, then turned white as her fist clenched, nearly tearing the sheets beneath her,

_No. I’m not losing anyone. Not anymore._

_Never again._

Growling, she dragged herself from the comfort of the mattress, swirling her cloak around her as she walked towards the door.

_Never again._

* * *

Weiss sat on the floor, her head resting against the cushions of the couch. Two empty bottles dominated the coffee table, looming above the scattered magazines. Weiss clasped the think fur blanket around her just a little tighter, hoping to shut out more than just the cold. The television flickered, a late-night infomercial still attempting to scam her despite the lack of sound. Staring mournfully into her empty glass, the heiress reached for a third, unopened bottle.

The ringing of her phone stopped her hand before it could close around the thin glass neck. Letting it ring, Weiss waited for the caller to grow tired of being ignored. Silence returned, and she reached once more for the wine, only for the clamor to begin again. Forcing herself to her feet, she winced as pinpricks spread up her legs, the blood rushing back to her limbs. Staggering over to the offending slab of plastic, Weiss was tempted to throw it across the room. Better to silence the incessant klaxon than to let it disrupt her melancholy. Tired and angry, she pulled back her arm, and noticed the name flashing across the screen.

Ruby Rose.

Weiss couldn't tear her eyes from the phone, watching as the name flashed more and more rapidly, finally vanishing as the answering machine took over. A second of silence, and Ruby called again, her name flashing on the small screen.

She surrendered. It simply wasn't worth fighting Ruby when she was really feeling stubborn. Her thumb pressed the answer button as her hand brought the last wine bottle against her head, the cool glass a relief against her skin.

"Now's not really a good time," Weiss started, readying an excuse for why she couldn't entertain the younger girl.

"I'm outside," her partner's voice echoed oddly through the speaker, sounding strangely hollow.

"Ruby, it's really ..."

"Weiss, let me in. Please." Ruby hung up, a light knocking coming from the door.

The heiress flirted with the idea of calling back, saying she wasn't home, anything to avoid seeing the girl who haunted her darkest, loveliest dreams. The knocking came again, just as quiet as before. It wasn't the hammering assault the girl normally used to get Weiss' attention.

Dropping the phone on the marble countertop, Weiss stumbled towards the door. Something flashed beside her, and she looked over into a blurry version of herself, staring out from the hallway mirror. Blinking, her vision cleared a little, revealing her undone hair, and the rumpled shirt she wore over her pants. Her eyes were red, probably puffy too, although she couldn't see them well enough to know. Deciding she no longer cared, Weiss abandoned her doppelganger, heading towards the rapping sound.

Weiss swung the door open. Ruby stood in the hall, bits of ice melting from her boots, her hair matted with snow. Grinning at the snow-white heiress, Ruby leaned in, pressing her finger against Weiss' nose.

"Boop," Ruby giggled before slipping past Weiss into the apartment. Weiss recoiled from the contact, leaving enough room for the brunette to slip into the apartment.

"You're drunk," Weiss accused, growing angry at her friend's antics. _Of all people, why did she have to come to me? Why now?_

"I'm only a little drunk," Ruby scoffed, swatting again at the long white hair. Before Weiss could object, Ruby twined her arms around her neck, pulling the older girl towards her. Ruby met Weiss' lips with her own, her body pressing into the startled woman.

Forcing her arms to move, Weiss shoved, the motion knocking her back into the wall. "The hell, Ruby?" Weiss swore as she wiped her mouth, hating how much she loved the taste of the manic young woman standing before her.

"You didn't want me to?" Ruby asked, the color leeching from her face as she stared wide-eyed at Weiss.

Pointedly ignoring the question, the heiress sighed, slumping back against the counter. "Just ... why are you here?"

It took Ruby a second to answer. When she finally did, her voice was quieter, missing the silliness from before. "I'm not an idiot, Weiss. Every time you see me lately, you look like someone put a knife in your ribs."

Weiss cringed. The last person she'd wanted to notice was Ruby. Frantically coming up with a lie good enough to convince her friend, she almost missed what Ruby said next.

"... and I think I know why," the girl in red murmured, looking exceedingly uncomfortable. Weiss knew she blanched. Her rapid pulse was an inch away from a heart attack, one she'd welcome if only to escape the conversation.

"Ruby, I can't ..."

"Weiss, it's okay," Ruby whispered in her ear, and Weiss' heart skipped a beat. While she had been lost in thought, her partner had stepped closer, and Weiss would have jumped if she wasn't already pressed against the wall. Gently, Ruby put one hand behind the heiress' neck, grey eyes watching for any sign of resistance before cautiously pulling Weiss back in for a kiss.

It was perfect. Tender and sweet, and everything Weiss had hoped for. Everything she'd dreamed of or dreaded. Her eyes slid shut as Ruby pressed little closer, her free hand rubbing reassuringly against Weiss arm. Slowly, Weiss caught herself losing control, desperately hoping that this was what she'd wanted and knowing that it could never be.

Weiss did everything she could to keep from melting into the embrace, failed, and then bit Ruby's tongue.

With a short sound of pain, Ruby broke the kiss, pulling away and checking for blood.

"Ruby, I can't do this." Weiss said, pushing the younger woman off of her. "I can't handle having ... I can't handle this." It took everything Weiss had just to choke it out. "I can't just be the person you get drunk and kiss."

“Weiss, I’m sorry I needed a little extra courage to come here,” Ruby said. “This is ... new for me too, okay? But it’s not me wanting to do this because ... I-I mean, I really like you, Weiss. And I really _want_   to do this. Plus,” she gave a weak, half-hearted chuckle. “It’s not like it’s our first time.”

Weiss froze, unable to speak even if she’d wanted to. Her heart lodged in her throat as Ruby continued, speaking to quickly for her to stop.

“That night Yang took us all out, when we ended up having ... sex. Back at my place.” Each word rushing out, as if Ruby was lightening her burden with every word. “I know we both had too much that night, but it was … I mean you were, just so, so, _amazing_. I thought ... I hoped maybe you wanted this too.”

Weiss couldn’t breathe, could barely speak. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

“Half of what happened at the bar, yeah.” Ruby turned a deep red at the memory. “After you took me home ... that’s not the kind of thing you forget.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Ruby shrugged, her shoulders drooped forward. “Because you looked so unhappy every time I talked to you. I didn’t know what to say. ‘Hey Weiss, thanks for last night. Sorry I threw myself at you while I was drunk?’” Looking even more uncomfortable, she stared down at the carpet. “You were already shutting me out. I didn’t know how you were going to take it, and you didn’t try to talk about it either. “

“Threw ... at me?” Weiss managed, lightheaded. Her brain was not helping her ability to string words together.

Ruby shot her a worried look before she answered “Yeah. Yang filled in what I forgot. About what I pulled at the bar and how you took me home.”

Looking into Weiss’ eyes, the younger woman saw something she didn’t like, her brow furrowing with worry. Moving through the kitchen, she pulled a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water before trying to press it into Weiss’ hand. “Weiss, I’m sorry if I ... look, if you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay. But, i-if you wanted to try to, you know, be–”

“Ruby, I am _so_ sorry.”

The red-streaked head froze, Ruby’s hand still gripping the bottom of the glass.

“When I took you home, I,” Weiss stammered, the words just not coming out. “I couldn’t help myself. I just ... you were lying there, and I ... I’m sorry.”

Ruby’s brows clashed together, eyes going slightly wide as she listened. “Weiss, you’re not making sense.”

“I didn’t ... you didn’t throw yourself at me. You were drunk, and I,” Weiss’ voice cracked as she looked away. “I took advantage. I’m so sorry, Ruby. I just, I mean-”

“Weiss, stop. Please.” Ruby cut her off. “I um ... I’ve spent the last twelve hours worrying if we’d still be friends after I came on to you out of the blue. So please, Weiss. Just,” Ruby paused, her breath ragged. “Just tell me what is going on?”

“I ... love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you, you dolt!” Weiss cried, the words scraping along her throat. “For so long, I … I can’t be in the same room as you without wanting to ... I look at you, and I can barely think straight. I-”

“Then why didn’t you say something?” Ruby asked, eyes wide. “ _Anything_? You felt like this for what? Months? And you never thought that _maybe_ you should tell me?”

“I just-” It was getting harder to put words together. Her throat kept trying to close, her tongue stumbling over the words as she said them. “Ruby, I spent most of my life alone. My father is ... my father, and as much as I love Winter, her work meant she was never around. The team, you, it was the first time I ever-” Blinking tears from her eyes, Weiss cleared her throat, forcing herself to meet Ruby’s gaze. “I couldn’t risk losing you.”

Ruby was silent for a long while, standing by the counter, the young woman looking as hurt and betrayed as Weiss had ever seen her. Finally, she spoke, her voice low and ragged. “You couldn’t risk telling me, but last night-”

“Ruby, I-” Weiss reached out to her, wanting to hold her, to find something to say that could fix this, only for Ruby to flinch away.

“I need … I need some air.”

Weiss froze, desperate to make Ruby understand. “Ruby, please.”

Without stopping, Ruby fled down the hall. Letting the door slam behind her, she left Weiss in the dark confines of the apartment, alone with her thoughts.

Something shattered, liquid splashing across her bare feet. Looking down, Weiss saw her shaking hand, clenched tight around the fractured sides of the glass. Glass shards sat in her bleeding hand, the rest scattering across her tiled floor. Weiss took a moment to watch the blood drip from her hand, oddly detached from her own bleeding. It didn't really even hurt. Didn't feel like much of anything, actually.

Sidestepping the broken glass, Weiss staggered back into her kitchen, plucking shards from her hand and letting them fall to the floor. Twisting the tap, she washed most of the blood away, her hand shaking as she grabbed the knob. She twisted again, and the water stopped. Something dripped down into the sink. Her injured hand touched her face, finding rivulets of tears streaming down her face.

Collapsing against the kitchen island, Weiss slid to the floor, losing the will to stay upright. Drawing in on herself, she felt her tears fall onto her hands, her throat racked with sobs. Losing any sense of time, Weiss sat and cried, alone in the unlit room.

* * *

An eternity later, a soft knocking woke Weiss, startling her into motion. She shook her head, trying to fight through the fuzzy blanket that sat over the world. She tried to move, and cringed. The morning light sneaking in through her drapes burned her eyes. Finally, her brain clicked, and Weiss realized where she was. She was sitting in her kitchen, her eyes aching. She'd been crying.

Ruby had been here.

The knocking came again, three sharp taps against the reinforced door.

Wanting to be left alone in her sorrow, Weiss moved to the door, barely remembering to dodge the broken glass. She was ready to shout, scream, anything to get whoever it was to simply leave her be.

She found Ruby standing outside, bits of ice melting from her boots, her hair matted with snow.

"Hi," the younger woman said.

... hello."

They stood there for a time, Weiss waiting for Ruby to speak, and dreading to know why she'd come back.

"I need to know something," the red-cloaked woman forced out.

Stepping forward, Ruby grabbed the front of Weiss' shirt and tugged. Gently pulling her forward, Ruby leaned in and kissed her, their lips barely brushing. Weiss just couldn't bring herself to fight it. It felt so good, Ruby's mouth on hers, hitting her with a humming thrill that made her hands shake. Even if she would never feel it again, even if this was Weiss’ last moment with the her, she couldn't stop.

Then Ruby pulled away, and Weiss wished she'd never given in.

"Okay," the younger woman exhaled shakily, her breath coming in one long, unsteady stream. "Okay. I-" she paused, looking up at Weiss with wide, storm-grey eyes. "You’re an idiot. But I forgive you."

Weiss blinked and pulled away, not trusting her ears, knowing that what she'd heard was impossible. She turned to head back inside, to shut the door and hope the world just went away. She made it half a foot before she stopped, Ruby's hand tugging on her arm.

"This can't work, Ruby," Weiss sobbed, desperate for the moment to end. For it to just be over. For her heart to stop breaking every time Ruby opened her mouth. "What I did ... I took ... you must be furious. You  _have_  to hate me."

" _This_ is what I’m talking about, Weiss," the red-cloaked girl said, nudging Weiss back into the apartment before shutting the door. "I mean, yeah I'm _mad_. If you weren't so guarded, a-and stubborn, and if you'd just told me, I could have-"

Her voice broke. Ruby took a breath and looked down into ice blue eyes. She'd gotten taller over the past couple years. Weiss forgot that sometimes.

"You didn’t take advantage of me, Weiss. And if you’d talked to me, I could have told you that. We were both pretty drunk that night, and ... maybe I wasn’t fully conscious the first time you kissed me. Maybe I was more drunk than you. But i-it's not like people don't ever have too many drinks and end up in bed together. And I'm not angry that you kissed me.”

“Ruby-”

“I’m not! And I’m not angry that we ... slept together.” Ruby cut her off, blushing. “I remember _that_ perfectly. I gave you permission and I meant it. Still do. I'm mad because I wish you'd trusted me enough to tell me.” Finally out of breath, Ruby sighed, slumping forward slightly until her head bumped into Weiss’ shoulder. “But I didn’t try all that hard to talk about it either. So … I forgive you."

"Ruby ..."

"Just listen for a second." Ruby said, surprisingly firm. "Neither of us did anything we didn't  _want_  to do. Okay?"

The heiress shook her head. All she wanted was for Ruby to leave. To leave with the empty promises. "I-I can't. Even if you can forgive me, I don't-"

"Don't what?"

"I don't deserve this, Ruby," Weiss said, just wanting it to be over. "I don't deserve you."

"Remember what I said about you being an idiot?” Ruby asked quietly. “ _I’m_ the one who gets to decide who deserves me. And for the record, you _do_.”

The words died in Weiss' throat. She looked up to see Ruby, her face unreadable in the darkness. Leaning in, Ruby kissed her with a gentleness that the older girl had never known, hands softly caressing her face. Droplets fell onto her skin. Opening her eyes, Weiss found Ruby crying, the tears falling, mixing with her own.

"Your hand's covered in blood," Ruby murmured after a moment, concern plain in her voice as she wiped away her tears.

"... it was just a glass."

Ruby let out a tired, exasperated little sigh, then took Weiss by the wrist and half-dragged her into the kitchen. She sat the older girl down on one of the stools before fishing Weiss' first-aid kit out from beneath the cabinet.

"Ruby-"

"Weiss, you kissed me while I was sleeping. Yeah, it was a surprise, and maybe not the right move, but I liked it. A lot. But if you need me to, I forgive you for that too." Pulling cotton swabs and bandages from the kit, Ruby started washing the blood from Weiss' cuts, checking to make sure there weren't any glass fragments left over. “Now sit here, let me fix you up, and later ... later we'll talk about this. Okay?"

Weiss didn't answer, and Ruby kept tending to her cuts, wiping the blood before cleaning the wounds, and wrapping most of her hand in the clean bandages. Only when she was absolutely sure Weiss would be alright did she stop, still holding the heiress' hand while she waited.

Finally, Weiss stared into Ruby's eyes and saw the hurt mixed with worry, tears still welling up behind those steel-gray pupils. She tried to look away, but Ruby pulled her back, the silence demanding a response.

"O ... okay," she managed.

Ruby nodded and smiled for the first time that night, her chin trembling before she started to cry in earnest. Hesitant and unsure, Weiss raised one aching arm, her palm barely brushing against Ruby's hair, terrified that she would flinch away.

She didn't. The moment Weiss touched her, Ruby wrapped her arms around her, nearly knocking her off the stool and pressing into her shoulder. Slowly, cautiously, Weiss placed her own arms around her back, holding Ruby to her. Not as tightly as the younger woman, not as sure or

"Weiss," Ruby said, mumbling into her shirt. "I want you to kiss me."

"Ruby..."

"Please," she whispered, and the red-streaked head pulled back just enough to look at Weiss. Ruby was a mess, her already-jagged hair even shaggier than normal, eyes still a little raw and red from the tears. "I told you, I forgive you. And I want this. Please, I-I need you to know that."

She sniffled, the back of one hand rubbing across her eyes before wiping a trace of mucus from her nose.

Weiss didn't care. She kissed Ruby, snot and all, her heart breaking every time another tear ran from her partner's eyes. Still ... she forgave her.  _Ruby_  forgave her.

"Could you say it again?" Weiss asked when they came apart, wanting,  _needing_  to hear it one more time.

Ruby smiled down at her, sending relief washing over Weiss, tears still wet on her face.

"I forgive you."

* * *

Blake awoke with the scent of her morning espresso. Smiling sleepily as she crawled out of bed, she staggered over to 'Little Yang,' patting the little contraption's casing, and raised the cup to her lips. Blake groggily waited for the warm caffeine to pour down her throat, her absent mind convinced that the drink was simply taking its time in sliding into her mouth.

Blinking her eyes clear of sleep, Blake stared into the cup, and found it empty. Feeling incredibly cheated, she glared at Little Yang, her eyes threatening immediate disassembly of the deceitful machine. Preferably with a hammer. Still, the smell of fresh-brewed coffee wafted through the room. Turning as she searched for the source of the unmistakable smell, Blake found Yang seated at her kitchen table.

She blinked. _Why was ..._

"What time is it?" Blake asked, impressed she could string so many words together this early in the morning.

"Noon," Yang drawled, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Blake growled. Trust Yang to not only deny her coffee but laugh at her pain. "Enjoying my torment, are we?"

"I'll say. I didn't know you slept topless these days."

It took a moment for Yang's words to sink in. Blushing furiously, Blake dove back into her room, arm clasped protectively over her chest. Kicking the door shut, she put her back against the door, sliding down until she sat with her knees against her chest. She sat there, mortified, until that scent snuck back into the room.

There was a knock at the door. Groaning, Blake stood, reaching for the dark, fuzzy bathrobe she'd left hanging on the rack. Slowly the door opened, just enough for a hand to reach through and leave a still-steaming mug on the sideboard. With a resigned sigh, Blake reached out, raised the cup to her lips, and drank. Consciousness returned with the caffeine, bringing with it a new degree of soul-crushing embarrassment.

"You decent?" Yang's voice asked through the door.

"I hate you," Blake yowled between sips. Holding the mug in her hands, she sat down on the edge of her bed, glaring as Yang cautiously opened the door and stepped inside. The blonde beamed down at her, no doubt enjoying Blake's humiliation as she sat down beside the Faunus, sipping from her own mug.

"Would it make you feel better if I stripped too?" Yang beamed innocently and reached up to unbutton her sweater.

"No," Blake moaned. It was her own damn fault for not thinking about what would happen if Yang actually showed up. Blake had let the team know where she hid the spare key for her apartment, just in case of an emergency. Knowing Yang, she _should_ have expected her to show up. Still ... Yang didn't have to look so pleased about it.

Leaning down, Yang kissed the top of Blake's head between her ears, hugging the embarrassed girl around her shoulders.

"You want another espresso?" Yang asked, pulling away from the embrace.

Blake nodded wordlessly. Smiling, Yang slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you've read the earlier version(s), you know this is pretty different. I've never been fully happy with the way this relationship turned out in this fic and I wanted to take another crack at it. For those who liked that older scene, it will appear later, in a slightly different context, so hopefully that'll be enough.
> 
> If you can take a second, please leave a review - I'd really like to know what people thought of this version.


	9. Hangman's Blood - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Yang try to have a normal start to a relationship - which doesn't go entirely to plan. Ruby tries to cook Weiss breakfast. Emphasis on tries.

_Doubles of gin, whiskey, rum, port, and brandy. Add a small stout and top with champagne. Not for the faint of heart._

The wafting smell of roasted beans, joined by cooking meat and frying eggs, drew Blake from her room with the promise of a morning meal. Struggling to rise, she wrapped her large coal-black bathrobe tighter around her, smiling as the soft, fuzzy cloth surrounded her. Her normal kimonos were far too thin for the winter months, and something about the thick robe always made her feel more awake. Tying the tightest knot she could, Blake checked herself in the mirror, fluffing her messy black hair into some semblance of order before exiting the room.

"Is it safe to look?" Yang drawled, her back to Blake as she slaved over the kitchen stove. "You like your eggs scrambled, right? It's about all I can do with them."

"It is, you know I do, and thanks." The sleepy Faunus sat down at the table only to find another cup of coffee waiting for her, the steam still rising from the brown mixture. Yang had outdone herself, sculpting the creamy covering of the espresso into the Belladonna crest. She took a moment to admire the effort, then destroyed the painstakingly-carved symbol, feeling energy jolt back into her limbs as she downed the mixture.

"You're still the only person I know," Yang quipped, stirring the eggs, "Who can down six cups of that in one sitting and not explode."

"If you're going to criticize, stop enabling me." Blake drained the cup only to find another being slid across the table by the attendant blonde. "You know you don't have to go to all this trouble."

"Call it my way of apologizing for catching you half-naked," Yang slid the eggs and bacon onto the groggy woman's plate before serving some for herself. "I can say that you look incredibly attractive in the morning."

"Flatterer." Blake dug into the food, doing her best to forget the embarrassment. "You should have woken me."

"I'm too well-behaved to enter a lady's bedroom without permission." The taller girl quipped, drowning her eggs in pepper. "Unless she's crying."

"I wasn't crying."

"I know." The blonde smiled, kind and understanding, absent any hint of her usual mocking grin.

Scowling, Blake grabbed her fork and speared the largest piece of bacon she could find. The last few days had been nothing but Yang catching her off guard, taunting and teasing her at every opportunity.

_Time to turn the tables._

Thrusting out, she placed the bacon against Yang's open mouth. The blonde's eyes wide, and Blake worried for a moment that she might have made a mistake. But no, Yang bit the food off the offending fork, and even managed to – mostly – keep from giggling.

"It's good," Yang laughed around the meat. Swallowing, she looked back at Blake, that mischievous glint sneaking back into her eyes. "Think it'd be easier if you did it by hand though. Less chance of me getting stabbed."

The Faunus girl watched as Yang opened her mouth wide, looking just like a baby bird begging for food. _Dammit._

Tentatively, Blake grabbed a crispy morsel and placed the end of the strip gently in Yang's teeth. The blonde bit it off, piece-by-piece, slowly eating through the crispy meat. Blake was about to put the last piece into Yang's mouth when she gently wrapped her lips around Blake's fingers. Swallowing the last of the bacon, Yang continued kissing Blake's hand. Grinning, Yang pulled away, but not before pressing her lips to the backs of Blake's fingers. Both girls met each other's eyes, Blake's set and stubborn, violet ones infinitely playful and enjoying every minute of it.

"So ... that happened." Blake cleared her throat, biting into her eggs as an excuse to stop talking.

Still grinning, Yang dove into her own meal, finishing quickly. "Get dressed," she said once Blake finished, already clearing the table. "We're going out."

* * *

Weiss groaned as she woke, her head aching. She turned, and found the bed empty apart from her. With no reason to wake, no reason to move, she settled back into the covers, refusing to begin the day.

Something exploded, followed by the clatter of metal smashing together. Trying to sit up, she cried out as she put pressure on her right hand. Rolling onto her side, she breathed, waiting for her sore palm to stop screaming. Looking down, Weiss removed the bandage, and winced. A number of short, deep cuts ran across her hand where the glass had cut her the night before. Careful to avoid putting any weight on her injured limb, she pushed herself from the bed. Wrapping a nightgown around her, Weiss staggered out into the main room of her apartment, Myrtenaster by her side.

Opening the door, Weiss's jaw dropped at the destruction in her kitchen. Several skillets were heating over the expansive stovetop, the smell of maple syrup and coffee pervading the room. Piles of used pans lay stacked in the sink, black char crusting most of them. A bag of flour lay upturned on the counter, the thick white powder spilling onto the floor. A tornado had hit her apartment, turning her cookware into debris and leaving one frying pan impossibly lodged into the wall.

All of this was still overshadowed by the small figure bustling around the room. Ruby was clad in an apron, a very tight pair of shorts Weiss had last seen in one of her own drawers, and little else. Her back was bare, apart from the apron's straps, and her cute butt wiggled as she worried over several skillets at once. Flour smeared across her hair and face, and one of the apron's shoulder straps had slipped down and dangled by her upper arm. Her eyes were wide as she ran between burners, sliding on the flour coating the floor.

Closing the door as quietly as she could, Weiss shut out the chaos trying to consume her kitchen. She breathed, trying to calm her nerves, before opening the door again and hoping that she was merely hallucinating. But Ruby still stood there, racing to keep her latest attempt at breakfast from exploding while black smoke plumed above her head. Accepting that it wasn't a delusional fever dream, Weiss stepped into the room, making just enough noise to let the other girl know she was awake.

Ruby whirled on the spot, her face half-covered in flour, hair akimbo, the only clothing over her chest capable of falling at any time. Dimpling at the sight of the older girl, Ruby bounced, quickly hiding the half-melted spatula behind her back.

"Good morning," Ruby cheered, giving Weiss a little curtsy.

"What are you wearing?" Weiss croaked, her voice still ragged and raw.

Ruby blushed. "That's not the _first_ question I was expecting."

The heiress scanned the room a second time, noting the repairs that needed doing. "Honestly," Weiss forced her face to stay straight, "I expected worse." Making her way over to a chair, she grabbed the back with her uninjured hand, leaning most of her weight on the sturdy wood. "Now, what _are_ you wearing?"

Ruby pouted at Weiss' estimation of her cooking skills. Shuffling her foot in the flour piling around her ankles, Ruby started wringing her hands. "Well, I knew last night was ... well, I just thought I'd do something nice and make you breakfast."

"That explains the mess, not why you're wearing half a maid outfit."

Ruby bounced nervously, the thin apron struggling to contain her chest. "After last night, my clothes were kinda soaked. From when I just barged outside in the snow."

Weiss rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to suppress the headache Ruby's evasion was causing. "You could always have borrowed a shirt. Or pants"

Ruby's dimples returned, her expression just a little too innocent. "I thought you might like this." Bouncing back to the skillets, Weiss was treated to an excellent view of Ruby's tight little ass. She smiled in spite of herself, appreciating what Ruby was doing. She just didn't think she deserved it.

"Ruby, you didn't have to do this."

"I know." Weiss watched as Ruby's face fell, the puppy-love expression she'd worn slipping from her face. "I'm not _happy_ about how this started, but after last night ..." She took a breath and looked sadly over at the heiress. "I'm willing to give it a shot if you are."

Weiss wrapped her arms around the younger girl's shoulders, feeling Ruby's warmth spread into her. Ruby laid her head back against Weiss' arm, accidentally bumping one of the cuts on her hand. The heiress winced, opening her eyes to find Ruby staring up at her with concern. Ever so gently, the taller girl lowered her lips to Weiss' hurt and kissed it.

"Any better?" Ruby asked. Ignoring the pain, Weiss smiled at the adorable little gesture.

"Much."

"So," Ruby bounced again, the change in topic returning the energy to the young woman, "Do you like it?"

"I really do." Beaming, Ruby sprang back to her latest attempt at a meal, managing to break the half-cooked flapjack mid-flip. Moving behind the other girl, Weiss took Ruby's hands in hers, guiding her through the process, pressed against Ruby's near-naked back. She had to stand on tiptoe just to see over Ruby's shoulders, reminding her of how much the younger girl had grown since they'd first met.

Watching Ruby try the trick on her own, Weiss let her fingers wander, tracing the outline of the girl before her. Falling to the hem of the outfit, her fingers slipped beneath the cloth, tickling up Ruby's sides.

"Weiss!" Giggling madly, Ruby smacked Weiss with a dishtowel, mostly missing her cuts.

* * *

"Was there anything you actually wanted to do?" Blake asked, her hand in Yang's as the two walked the holiday streets. Well-trimmed hedges peeked through the packed snow, hardened by layers of ice and cold. The crowds were heavier than the day before, everyone lost in their shopping, their errands, their dates. Hordes of couples filled the town, spending the daytime hours with each other, avoiding family and friends to simply be together. Blake caught a glimpse of one young couple kissing in a doorway under the mistletoe, the two blissfully oblivious to the world around them. Gold eyes twinkled as she added another item to her shopping list. If only to give them another excuse.

"I thought it'd be fun to get out for a bit." Yang looked down at Blake, looking as playful as ever. "Is it weird that I want to spend time with my girlfriend?"

"I'm your girlfriend now?" Blake said, arching her eyebrow.

"I thought it was a safe bet." Yang leaned down, blonde head resting against jet-black hair. Suddenly, she stopped, jerking Blake to a halt. "Unless you don't want ... I mean-"

Chuckling, Blake kissed her nose, smiling as the taller woman perked up. "It's fine."

Yang still looked worried. "You sure? It's not too soon?"

"Yang, we've known each other way too long for anyone to call this 'soon.'"

Yang laughed, slipping her arm around the Faunus' shoulders as the two moved on. Blake let Yang lead her along, happy just being with her ... girlfriend? Her date? It still sounded strange, an odd step from her 'teammate,' her 'partner.'

 _I guess we really are_  together  _now._  Still, it felt weird to say. She'd never really had someone like that, someone to call  _hers_ , in any sense of the word. There'd been dates in the past few years, nothing lasting long enough for her to consider them a couple. Even Adam had ... well, Adam was Adam.  _That_  couldn't even be called a relationship, just some twisted farce.

 _Dammit._ That was the last thing she wanted to think about. Not with Yang next to her, being so perfect. Pushing away the memories, Blake sighed and laid her head on Yang's shoulder, smiling as the blonde noticed and squeezed her hand.

It was going to be a good day, a happy day. It had always been nice to hang out with Yang, but now ... it was different. A different energy to it. A different closeness. A chance to try out a kind of physical intimacy they had never tried before. Despite her worries – that it would awkward or uncomfortable, or just weird doing these sorts of things with Yang – Blake found herself liking the feeling of Yang's hand resting in hers. Her scent on the leather duster.

She was almost completely relaxed when she froze. Only for a second, but it was long enough to catch Yang's attention. Shaking her head, she forced herself to unwind, annoyed that her mind was playing tricks on her. It was the old memories coming back to haunt her, letting her see her old partner in a stranger's back, the man passing them on the opposite side of the street. Something about the way he moved revived those old memories, ghosts of the dead and buried coming back to haunt her. Closing her eyes, she let the feeling go, breathed until her heart rate resumed its normal pace, and opened her eyes.

The man was still there, black skullcap hiding his hair, scarf across most of his mouth, oversized shades covering his face. He was only a little over average height, around average weight, his pace matching those closest to him. Overall, he seemed almost perfectly average. The clothing was concealing, but not odd. Bundling up was the normal response to the biting cold of the past few days. Even the shades were explainable: 'twas the season for partying, and more than a few pedestrians were bound to be nursing a hangover.

There was no reason for anyone to pay attention to someone so clearly insignificant. Something that to Blake simply screamed danger. She had learned quite a bit about moving unseen during her time in the White Fang. There was no way he was just another shopper on a last-minute run. The only people _that_ anonymous were the ones who didn't want people noticing them. The ones who wanted your eyes to just slide away, disregard them as background players in your own, much more important story.

 _There._ The man turned to dodge a speeding baby carriage, and Blake saw him move. Not the quiet anonymous walk, but the small movement drilled into one's bones over years of training. The way he shifted on his feet, the dip of his shoulder as he stepped aside, appearing all at once and disappearing once the obstacle was gone.

It couldn't be. It _couldn't_ be. He was dead, gone, and buried. Still ... somehow, Blake had just seen the one person she'd hoped to never meet again.

Blake tried to run after him, only to jerk to a halt as Yang's hand stopped her. _Crap_. She'd forgotten about the girl standing next to her, now staring puzzled down at her suddenly moving date.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, there's just ..." she paused, not sure what to tell her. "It's something I need to do. It'll be quick, I promise."

Yang shrugged, giving her hand one last squeeze before letting go. "Call me when you're done."

Blake kept herself to a brisk walk, making sure she was out of sight before she burst into a run. _It can't be him._ Whoever the hell this was, they weren't going to get away with this. Whoever revived this specter was going to pay, and pay dearly.

Slipping around the corner, Blake let her boots skid on the ice, using the momentum to throw herself forward. Dodging pedestrians, Blake ran until she could see that black cap among the heads in the crowd. Another minute and she was fifteen feet behind the man, slowing to a normal walk as she slipped into the crowd.

She needed him alone, needed him to move away from the onlookers and the bystanders. Even if it wasn't Adam, she wasn't willing to risk the holiday shoppers. And if it _was_ ...

Blake watched as the man turned down an alley, slipping into a darkness too deep for anyone but a Faunus to see through. She followed, one hand near the weapon at her back, staying just far enough not to draw attention. One shortcut gave way to another, and another; the trail zigzagged across the city, slipping from crowded streets to darkened alleys, finally ending at a small building on the edge of town.

They were near the waterfront, the run-down warehouse reeking of fish and motor oil. _A cannery?_ She was not pleased. The fish oil staining the area made it impossible to get a read on the man's scent. She'd have to keep him in sight, or risk losing him in the maze of buildings.

Blake stopped at the end of another warehouse, the corrugated steel wall hiding her from view. The footsteps came to a halt, shuffling as her target dealt with the off-kilter door. Finally, the angled panel yielded, and he slipped inside, Blake yanking her head back around the corner as he made one last sweep. The door slammed, as close to shutting as it could, and Blake took the distance to the cannery at a run, moving from one hiding spot to another.

Sliding to a halt against the sheet metal wall, Blake tried to peer up through the window. The glass was nearly opaque, covered with grease and smears and god-knows-what. She kept moving along the wall, staying as low as she could. Whoever this was, the last thing Blake wanted was to get caught. Muffled voices came from the other side of the wall, growing louder and more indistinct as the conversation continued.

Finally, she found a hole in the wall where an air conditioner once sat, the square space open and inviting. She crawled inside, finding herself in a small walled-off room, graffiti covering the frosted glass and broken desk. The door to what had once been the manager's office was shut, the knob missing, ripped from its seat in the dark wood. It made for the perfect peephole.

Peering through the cedar door, Blake watched as two men stood in the abandoned cannery, arguing in muffled voices. The man she had followed stood with his back to her, the dark glasses still covering his face. She wasn't surprised. Adam couldn't wear his mask in public and not expect someone to recognize him, not after the shit he'd pulled.

The newer arrival wore a plain, if clearly cheap, business suit. He looked every bit the part of a boring office worker, tired and ordinary with a gut spilling out over a belt that was barely managing to hold onto its last notch. He was nearly identical to any of the other business owners and mid-level managers Blake herself had 'visited' during her time with the Fang. He kept clutching his briefcase, white knuckles clasped around the stainless steel handle. The two men were arguing about something, the walls too thick for her to make out much without giving herself away.

Voices raised, the suit getting more agitated as he looked around the empty room. Without warning, the man she'd followed decked the suit, heavyset jowls wobbling as the businessman's head snapped to the side. A skittering sound filled the room, his eyeglasses sliding across the concrete floor, one side twisted and bent.

The suit swung the briefcase at Adam, the roundhouse swung slow and clumsy. Not bothering to dodge, Adam grabbed the case, twisting it free as the other man lost his grip. Using the momentum, Adam twirled, backhanding the man with his own briefcase, the stainless steel colliding with his skull. The businessman went down, collapsing to the ground as Adam kicked the case aside.

Blake watched as Adam knelt beside the whimpering man, closed those calloused hands around his throat, and began to squeeze. Not daring to move, not daring to make a sound, she watched in horror as the man died in front of her, his pudgy legs kicking weakly.

Finally, he stopped. Adam released his hands, rising to his full height. Stepping across the corpse, he reached down for the blood-stained suitcase. Suddenly, he froze, his head snapping up and glancing about the room, his covered eyes finally coming to a stop, looking right at the hole in the door.

She ran.

She ran and ran, diving through the bodies filling the streets, running until she was sure _he_ couldn't have followed her. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs ached. She ran until her body refused to run any further. Then, and only then, did she collapse against a lamppost, her breath reduced to ragged pants, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked around, frantically searching for a single sign of that man in the black cap.

Nothing.

She was safe, at least for now. He couldn't have seen her. He _couldn't_ have known it was her.

Violet eyes that promised warm arms and armored fists flashed in her mind's eye. _Yang_. There was nothing she needed right then more than Yang.

Blake slowly made her way back across town, finally finding Yang waiting where she'd left her. The blonde was sprawled across a bench, looking perfectly comfortable as flurries of snow fell around her.

"You want to tell me what that was all about?" she drawled, dusting herself off as she rose, her eyes still twinkling playfully.

Blake paused for a moment before answering. She was glad Yang didn't seem angry over her abandonment, but ...

There was no reason to tell Yang what she'd seen. She was not even sure she believed it herself. Blake had seen Adam die, impaled on Ruby's scythe in that last fight. He was dead. Nothing more than a memory that still sometimes woke her in a cold sweat. A hundred impossible explanations that deserved plotlines on daytime soaps filled her mind, each one more implausible than the last.

Shaking her head, Blake quieted her overactive imagination. No, there was no reason to tell Yang. What he had done ... Yang didn't need that reminder right now. She deserved to be happy. No reason to tell her at all, at least for now. She needed to make sure. When it came down to it, Adam was her problem, not the team's, and not Yang's. She would handle this.

Later.

Blake forced herself to smile back at her date. "Just had to run an errand."

Yang cocked an eyebrow, clearly not believing the obvious lie. Blake hoped the girl would come to the conclusion that she wanted her to.

"Keeping secrets?" Yang feigned offense, her humor falling on deaf ears. "It is the season for surprises." Her eyes wiggled suggestively, but she let the matter drop. Blake relaxed, knowing Yang wasn't about to press the issue.

* * *

Their date lasted until winter descended upon the town, turning the frigid city into a frozen wasteland. Snow whipped in the faces of nighttime shoppers, driving many back into their homes, businesses closing behind them. The snow was already half a foot deep in places. Pedestrians dodged as the wind knocked icicles into the street.

Oblivious to the storm, Yang laughed as she slipped and slid on the ice, dragging Blake behind her. The wind whipped their clothes around them, forcing the two to cling together for balance and warmth, something Yang had absolutely no problems with. The two girls finally darted from the near-empty street to Blake's apartment door, the wind tearing at their hair as the storm worsened. The two jumped inside the room, Yang slamming the door against the cold while Blake cranked the thermostat higher with shaking fingers.

The two stood, breathing heavily as the whine of the wind echoed through the building. Taking off her coat, Blake hung it on the wall, only to find Yang bundling herself up tighter.

"I really have to head home," Yang apologized to Blake's curious stare, "Ruby gets all worked up when she's worried."

"Send her a text. It's a blizzard out there."

Yang grinned and kissed Blake's cheek. "And if I don't leave now, I won't make it home."

Blake shook her off, refusing to be ignored. She looked ... worried. Way to worried for the short walk back to the sisters' apartment. "Yang, you're going to freeze to death."

"I don't feel the cold," Yang joked, forcing the door open against the wind. She only made it halfway outside when Blake's arms wrapped around her torso. She stopped there, wind whipping the bottom of her coat, biting into the exposed skin of her hand. Every breath stung as the cold air hit her teeth.

Blake shivered against her back as she whispered, "Don't leave me alone tonight."

Yang turned, and found Blake staring up at her. Her ears pressed back against her head, golden eyes wide and locked on violet ones.

"Blake, what's wrong?" Stepping back inside, Yang shut the door behind her.

"I ..." Blake swallowed and looked down at her hands. "I thought I saw someone I knew from the White Fang."

Anger riled in the pit of Yang's stomach, sending heat coursing down her veins. Of all the times, why now? _Why_ couldn't they just ... "You know his name? We'll send to the police, make sure they can-"

"It wasn't him, Yang." Blake shook her head before looking up at the blonde. "He's dead. I just ... bad memories. Right now, I-I don't want to be alone."

She looked ... forlorn. That was the only word for it, that expression of deep-seated sadness, loneliness, and ...

Need. The need to have someone else there. The need for some sense of closeness, support. A need for ... something else. Something Blake couldn't, or wouldn't, ask for.

"Are you sure?" Yang asked, leaving the rest of the question unsaid.

Blake nodded, her lips twitching in a small smile. "I think we've waited long enough."

Yang embraced her girlfriend's begging body with every fiber of her own. She lowered her mouth to Blake's, and they kissed, thin fingers twining in Yang's yellow curls. Kicking the hallway door shut, Yang lifted Blake into her arms, the smaller woman curling against her chest as thin fingers slid down to cup Yang's face. Blake broke the kiss, and nuzzled into Yang's chest, causing the blonde to laugh as jet-black hair tickled her skin.

Yang laid her girlfriend on the bed, her thin body resting atop the comforter. Yang went back to close the bedroom door, only to hear the unmistakable sound of rustling clothing behind her. She waited until the rustling stopped, then let the door snap shut.

"Yang, turn around," murmured Blake.

She looked at the figure on the bed. There Blake sat, covered only by her long black tresses, her skin glowing in the warm light. Her ears bent back, honest about her nervousness despite the cool expression she wore. The same breasts she had been so embarrassed of that morning sat high on her chest, their curves gleaming.

"Turn off the lights."

Yang obeyed. She walked slowly to the bed, stripping her jacket and kicking off her boots before desire overtook her. Sweeping jet-black hair past Blake's shoulders, Yang tasted her lips and felt her shiver in anticipation. Yang kept the kisses light, letting her lips barely brush her lover's and forcing Blake to lean into her. The blonde brought her hands up and heard her girlfriend moan as she cupped her breasts. She caressed and teased, exploring her girlfriend's form as Blake filled her hands and grew sensitive at her touch. Anxious fingers grasped Yang's shirt, fumbling with the buttons. Yang broke the kiss, letting her hands fall to grasp her lover's.

"Let me." Yang slipped out of her clothes, Blake's hands rising to hold her chest even before the shirt was off. Fingertips traced her softness, following the line of her bra until they reached her back. Slipping the catch, Blake lifted the offending garment away from Yang, tossing the thin cloth to the floor before diving into her breasts. Yang couldn't help but moan as Blake kneaded her chest, tongue dipping to flick across the skin. Slowly, frustratingly slowly, Blake worked her way down to the center of Yang's breast, flicking the swiftly hardening nub.

Not to be outdone, Yang leaned in, kissing the spot between Blake's ears before stroking her hands through the dark waves of hair. Slowly, she brought her left hand up, until the tip of one of her fingers pressed against Blake's feline ears.

Blake went stiff, hands frozen in the middle of a caress. Yang immediately pulled her hand away, moving it down to rub the other girl's shoulder. "Sorry, if you don't want me to-"

"Yang," Blake cut her off, swallowing before looking up. "Tell me again. Why you like my ears."

Leaning in, Yang pressed her lips to Blake's cheek, before whispering into her ear. "Because they're a part of you. Because they brought you to me."

Taking a deep breath, Blake nodded, then pressed herself against Yang's shoulder. "Alright. Go ahead."

Keeping her touch feather-light, Yang ran fingers along the black fur tufts, her skin tickling the soft fur. She felt Blake push into her as her back arched, the Faunus shifting instinctively in her arms. Then Blake bucked her hips by accident, biting back a moan as she ground against Yang's thigh.

"Ya ... Yang, those are ... sensitive," Blake whimpered, her whole body shaking as Yang massaged her feline parts.

"Do you want me to stop?" Yang asked, continuing to run her fingers through Blake's fur.

"N ... no, keep going." Blake stiffened, her legs twitching as Yang continued her petting. Every stroke of Blake's ears brought another pump of her hips, dragging her core against Yang's leg. Yang scratched just a little harder, bringing her other arm around to support Blake's back as she pressed her lips to the Faunus' neck. Blake moaned, her arms clinging around Yang's chest, her face pressing against the blonde's breasts out of instinct.

Yang felt how wet the other girl was against her thigh, and pressed a little harder, pulling Blake's chin up to kiss her while she kept playing with her ears. Blake broke the kiss with a whine, making one last shuddering thrust as she came, her face falling to rest against the soft pillows of Yang's chest. Yang waited for her to recover, holding her girlfriend to her with one hand while the other ran down her ebony hair. Blake's breathing slowed, her back arching into Yang's touch. She raised her head, half-lidded eyes staring up into Yang's smiling face.

"It really has been a long time for you, hasn't it?"

Blake glowered up at the blonde, an accusing glint in her golden eyes. "I'm really not in the mood for jokes, Yang."

Yang's brows twitched in apology as she kissed her jaw. "Blake, I'm really glad I get to be your first," Yang grinned, irrational pride swelling in her chest. "First girl, at least."

"Then be gentle," Blake whispered, her arms twining around Yang's neck. She tried to pull herself up for a kiss, a few aftershocks still making her body twitch after her climax. Yang gently lifted, embracing her before their lips joined. A tongue slid greedily into her mouth, wrestling with her own as Yang let her hands slide down, grinning when Blake gasped from the feeling of hands grabbing her ass. Pulling the gorgeous Faunus against her, Yang held the kiss before sliding her left hand down Blake's tight stomach. She stopped, letting her fingers twine in the soft black curls that sat above Blake's core. Gently, Yang slid her hand along Blake's lower lips, feeling her wetness.

Yang broke the kiss to whisper in Blake's ear. "May I?"

Blake nodded wordlessly, her face flushed as her body braced against the violation. Yang kissed her forehead, holding the poor girl to her as she waited for Blake to relax again. Yang slowly slid into her lover, letting her finger rest inside when the girl cringed.

Running her right hand down through her hair, Yang whispered into her ear, giving her any reassurance she could. She wouldn't let it hurt, not after everything Blake had been through. This was going to be perfect, and Yang was going to make damn sure Blake enjoyed every minute of it. She could feel Blake contracting around her, small ridges squeezing her skin. Slowly, Blake breathed and relaxed, growing used to having Yang inside her.

"Okay," she panted, her eyes glazed over. "... keep going."

Ever dutiful, Yang curled her finger, stroking Blake's insides as she pulled back to the entrance. Blake quivered, the feeling of Yang stroking her far better than anything she had done herself. There wasn't too much difference in technique, or where Yang touched ... it was the fact that it was _Yang,_ that for the first time in longer than she could remember, she was being touched and taken by someone else. _Someone she_ ...

Yang was slow and gentle, ruining Blake's train of thought before sliding in a second, then a third finger. Blake moaned as her pussy stretched slightly to accommodate Yang, her insides tightly clinging to the blonde with every thrust. Yang kissed her again, Blake's mouth frantic and inaccurate. Yang thrust in, making Blake cry out her name as her fingers went deep into the other girl. Each thrust pulled her hand across Blake's clit. Each movement caused Blake's hips to buck. Blake's juices leaked out with each thrust, the girl almost impossibly wet while Yang listened to her heavy breathing, testing each spot to find Blake's favorite. Finally, she found the spot that made Blake cry out, her hips shaking from trying to hold herself back.

Yang curled her fingers and stroked Blake's most sensitive spot again and again, causing the girl to buck her hips against the calloused hand. Her arms still wrapped around Yang's chest, Blake slowly collapsed against her. Soon, the inexperienced girl was supported only by Yang's torso, her death grip tightening as her orgasm neared. Bringing her thumb up, Yang rolled it against Blake's clit, pressing just a little harder as the Faunus bit her lip. Blake's shivers turned into spasms, her muscles overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure, her seizing legs kicking ineffectually against the bed. Blake's back arched as she cried, fully in the throes of her climax, falling backwards onto the bed. Yang followed, continuing to caress every inch of Blake she could, her other hand slipping up to stroke her ears. She pressed harder, more firmly, driving her fingers up into the spot Blake loved the most as her palm ground hard into the girl's clit.

Four more strokes and Blake screamed her name, legs curling in on themselves as she came as hard as her body would let her, fluids spraying across the bed and coating Yang's hand. Yang grinned as she kept going, extending the climax until Blake collapsed, her whole body quivering. Blake reached for Yang, her hand shaking randomly as her shivers continued. Yang grabbed her hand, shifting closer to hold the girl as her body calmed, reassuring her as best she could. Slowly, Blake's movements subsided, her breathing slowing into a steady rhythm. Catching her breath, she rolled into Yang, her hands cupping the blonde's face once more as she kissed her with all the passion her exhausted body could muster.

"H ... how did you l-learn that?" Blake asked, her voice still unsteady.

"The same way anyone gets good at sex. Practice," Yang half-joked, cuddling her nearly naked body against her girlfriend's soft curves. Kissing Blake's forehead again, Yang stroked her body, feeling Blake lean into the touch of her hand, her hips shivering again as she brushed her skin.

"Thanks," Blake gasped, grabbing Yang's hand. Golden eyes stared into violet as Blake forced herself up off the bed. "I don't think I can move."

Yang smiled and kissed her. There is a unique sense of pride in knowing that you pleased your lover; an even greater one lies in knowing you caused their body to rebel, pleasure overriding rhyme and reason in an endless wave of ecstasy. Yang felt that pride swell in her, infinitely pleased that she could make Blake react that well in bed. Even as Blake ran awkward fingers up her sides, Yang couldn't resist getting one last jest.

"I didn't know you were such a screamer. Or such a squirter."

Blake turned bright red, her hands grabbing Yang's flesh a little too tightly. The embarrassed Faunus glared at Yang, her shoulders pulling in on herself.

"Me neither," she finally said. "You're the only person who's done that to me."

Yang drew Blake back into her embrace, hugging the girl with all her might. Yang stared down into those gorgeous golden orbs, loving the way Blake's eyes angled, so unlike the human norm. Blake nodded, wiping away a few tears from her climax as she snuggled into the hollow of Yang's chest, tufted ears tickling Yang's skin as she burrowed between her breasts. Bringing her hand down to her girlfriend's ass, Yang pulled Blake into her, their hips locking together. She ran her finger along Blake's flushed pussy from behind, causing the girl to whine and start to shiver again, her hands gripping Yang's sides. Taking pity on the poor girl, Yang stopped, letting her lie in peace. Blake's head lay nestled in her breasts, her ass cupped by Yang's hand, binding the two inextricably together.

Snuggling into her lover, Blake fell asleep in Yang's arms, too tired even to dream.

* * *

"Did she see everything?" an unmistakably feminine voice purred, her flats clicking on the concrete floor. The petite woman melted out of the shadows of the abandoned building, gray clothes hiding her surprisingly well against the concrete and sheet metal. Blonde hair swayed near her chin, the bangs pinned up out of her face.

"Everything she was supposed to," the man growled through his scarf. "You're lucky she ran. I might not have been able to take her like this."

"There was very little risk." The woman stepped forward to grab the case, one gloved hand gingerly gripping the handle. "Ex-mentor, ex-lover, old enemy, older ally – imagine everything you hated about your past all personified in a single man." Her voice flickered with humor, the same kind that pulled the wings off grasshoppers and left them to die.

"Taurus is her own personal Mephistopheles, a corrupting devil she barely managed to escape from. Confrontation would mean admitting how close she was once to becoming the man she hates."

"She managed well enough a few years ago."

"Her teammate had to deal the killing blow. Plus, you did just come _back_ _from the dead,_ " the blonde said dryly. Her smile never touched her eyes, the light brown pools cold and dead.

"So glad you're amused. We done here?"

"Of course. You've been such a good boy ... Adam." The blonde giggled, a tinkling little sound reminiscent of someone being murdered with a wind chime. Briefcase held jauntily over one shoulder, she stalked off towards the entrance, the heels of her flats clicking rhythmically as she left.

"Be a dear and clean up the mess, won't you?"


	10. Shock Me - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss and Ruby try to ease their way into some kind of relationship, while Blake tries to make up for being solely on the receiving end the night before.

_A fourth cup of brown ale, 2 teaspoons bourbon, a little Southern Comfort, and a dash of maple syrup for all the badass blonde Canadians out there._

Weiss sighed as she slumped deeper into the claw-foot tub. The scalding water washed across her body, soothing every muscle and lifting her enough to keep her from pressing too firmly against the bottom. Lilac drifted from a candle Ruby had materialized from god-knows-where, the flowery scent mixing with the musky shampoo. Her eyes fluttered shut as Ruby took her long hair in hand, letting the silvery sheet hang behind her as the water washed across her skin. Strong, calloused fingers began to massage her scalp, ivory foam mixing with snow-white hair as Ruby worked her way through Weiss' long tresses.

She let herself drift, not daring to imagine that this moment could be real. That the girl she adored could be pampering her this completely. Apparently, that had been Ruby's mission since they had salvaged the burned and broken remains of breakfast. After putting on more clothes, at Weiss' insistence, Ruby had spent the day waiting on her hand and foot, ignoring the heiress' constant objections.

It was Ruby who had decided that the best thing for Weiss was a long, hot soak. As she lay in the water, Ruby washing her hair, the foam bubbling out across the water's surface, she wondered how the younger girl was so good at this. Ruby never let her hair grow any longer than her wolf's-cut bob, but she worked through Weiss' locks with practiced ease. _Maybe she helps Yang with that mane of hers._

Deciding she no longer cared, Weiss closed her eyes. She wanted to simply enjoy the moment, to let it shut out the nagging voices that hounded her. Despite the blissful bath, she couldn't help but feel uneasy, doubts and horrid fantasies of what could happen between them haunting her. No matter how she tried, the hands toweling off her hair reminded her of Ruby's pain and anger the night before, and the talk Ruby had said they were going to have. A talk which Ruby had studiously avoided.

Weiss forced herself up, quickly crossing her arms over her chest. The idea of Ruby seeing her naked still made her nervous, even if they had slept together. She'd even insisted Ruby turn around when she'd slid into the tub, pointedly ignoring the argument that it wasn't anything the younger girl hadn't seen already. At least the soap suds covered her for the most part.

"Are we going to talk about ... this?" Weiss finished, cursing her inability to simply ask Ruby how she felt about their ... whatever this was. She couldn't call it a relationship, not really. Those years in school, two more as full-fledged huntresses, and in the course of a few nights Weiss had demolished what friendship they had. For what? One night of sex?

Ruby was quiet for a long while, her hands still working the towel through Weiss' hair. Finally she stopped, gentle fingers twirling pale tendrils up into a knot at the back of Weiss' head. Setting the wet cloth aside and moving to the side of the bath, Ruby lay her head on the porcelain rim. Looking up at the heiress, she seemed so much like a sad puppy that Weiss had to fight to keep from smiling.

"Do we have to?" Ruby asked. "I-I'm still not sure exactly how to feel about this." She reached out, pushing a fallen strand of hair back past Weiss' ear. The hand lingered on her cheek, cupping her face. Weiss met her eyes, her heart skipping at the affection that shone from the younger girl's eyes.

"I like you. I like being with you," Ruby smiled crookedly, a wry note slipping into her voice "But when someone says out of the blue that they love you, it takes some getting used to."

The memory of the confession caused Weiss to wince, embarrassment clawing at her insides. "If I could do it over again ...."

Ruby stroked her cheek with her thumb before moving to fix yet another unruly lock back into place. "At least now I have a chance to decide how _I_ feel _._ I just ... I need some time. I need to take this slow for now."

Weiss nodded, and watched as Ruby tossed the damp towel over the nearby rack. As she turned back to the bathing girl, Weiss could see the smile slip from Ruby's face, the girl looking genuinely serious for the first time that day.

"This is all a little new to me, Weiss. I barely dated while we were in school, and you know how I kinda focus on work."

Weiss nodded numbly as a cold hand gripped her heart. _Did I ...?_

"That night, was that ... that wasn't your ... I didn't ..."

"I'm not _that_  new at this," Ruby rolled her eyes, the derision doing wonders for Weiss' pulse. "I've been with a couple people, I'm just not Yang."

Weiss smiled wryly, relief washing over her. Within a few months of starting at Beacon, the entire team had seen how frequently Yang bounced between boyfriends and girlfriends, thoroughly enjoying herself but only rarely starting serious relationships. She'd never hit on her teammates; she knew the pitfalls of dating someone you lived and worked with as well as Weiss did, but almost anyone else that caught her fancy was fair game. At least she'd been discreet enough not to bring her dates back to the room the four had shared. Mostly. Weiss still swore she'd heard Yang's voice echoing from CVFY's dorm room one night. It was an open secret that the blonde wasn't exactly quiet.

"What about you?" Ruby's voice interrupted her reverie.

"What about me?" she blinked, hoping feigned confusion would get her out of the trap she'd sprung on herself.

Ruby gave her the most withering stare she'd ever seen. Resigned that there was no easy way out, Weiss cleared her throat. "Not many, but," she lingered, knowing and dreading the discussion she was about to start, "I've only ever dated girls."

Ruby blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. Weiss refused to look away, her reluctance to talk about her history fighting her refusal to be ashamed of it. She'd already had to deal with enough backlash from her family. Then again, both Ruby and Yang

"So you've never done it with a guy?" Ruby asked, her customary lack of tact resurfacing.

"That sometimes happens when you're a lesbian," Weiss drawled, letting her voice drip with as much sarcasm as she could muster. "I've never really been that interested in men. I tried dating men, once or twice, but ..." She trailed off.

"Explains you not liking Jaune our freshman year."

She rolled her eyes. "Him hitting on me did not help matters. At least Pyrrha beat most of the stupidity out of him."

Ruby laughed, the bright note reminding Weiss of one more reason she loved this redheaded girl, "Remember his face when she proposed? We had to pry his jaw off the floor."

The humor turned infectious, the two devolving into giggles as Ruby's features contorted into an only slightly exaggerated copy of Jaune's. His classic clueless look was ridiculously wrong on Ruby's sharp, clever features. Without warning, she stopped, a small grin creeping cautiously across her face. Weiss cocked her head, waiting for an explanation.

"I just realized, we've gone three days without you really yelling at me," Ruby grinned, "I 'm getting all nostalgic for the tsun-tsun Weiss."

Heat flashed up the heiress' face, anger quickly following the creeping blush. "Dammit Ruby, I am _not_ a tsundere!"

"There she is," Ruby chuckled, patting the snow-white head in the most patronizing way possible.

Weiss narrowed her eyes at the grinning little monster. Whipping her arm forward, an arc of water flew towards the infuriating little girl, catching her right in her smug face. Ruby stood there for a moment, dumbfounded as water dripped from her nose, before grinning, grabbing the wash basin, and hurling the liquid back at Weiss.

Minutes later, the tile of Weiss' bathroom was slick with soapy water, their fight having emptied half the tub. Weiss snapped the faucet back on, keeping one arm across her chest until the rising suds hid her from view. Ruby stood, wiping water from her eyes, drenched from head to toe. Weiss' righteous assault had soaked the offending girl, leaving her dripping on the already-wet floor.

"Not that this wasn't fun," Ruby laughed, shaking herself like a dog and spraying water everywhere, "But I need to borrow that bath after you're done."

Weiss paused, her pride engaged in epic battle with her desire for the manic redhead. "The tub's big enough for two," she finally mumbled, eyes locked on the opposite wall.

"Sorry?"

"You heard me, dolt," Weiss snapped, sinking down beneath the water, and instantly regretting saying anything.

For a long moment, Ruby just stared at her. For once, Weiss couldn't tell what she was thinking. Then she felt Ruby's hand against her face, and let the other girl pull her in. She felt Ruby's lips on hers, barely brushing together before her lover pulled her deeper into the kiss. Gone was her desperation from that first night together. The girl she loved was sitting beside her, and she planned to cherish every moment those lips were on her own. Weiss felt Ruby's fingers twine with her own, guiding her arms until she'd locked the taller girl in her embrace.

"That does kinda sound fun," Ruby said quietly, a smile playing across her lips. "But maybe next time."

* * *

Blake woke to the smell of Yang's coffee, the scent wafting through the room and drawing her from sleep. She rose, her usual groggy, bear-like mood replaced by a sense of pure, profound contentment. She could still feel herself glowing from the night before, more relaxed than she could remember being in a long while. Blake pushed herself from the pillows, the sheets sliding off her naked breasts to puddle in her lap. She smiled. There was something delightfully sinful about sleeping naked, the sheets brushing against her bare skin. _Something I'd like to do much more often,_ she grinned, cherishing the memory of Yang between her legs.

Blake felt the mattress with her hand as she slid out, blushing at the still-damp spot on the sheets. Ignoring the clothing lying nearby, Blake flicked the coal-black bathrobe off the wall. Wrapping it around her naked form, she felt the fuzzy cloth tickle against her skin.

Blake had half-tied the cloth belt around the robe before she caught herself. Grinning sheepishly, she retied the robe, the knot hanging loosely around her hips. The robe now draped across her breasts, leaving the inner curves exposed to the air. Checking herself in the full-length mirror, she fluffed her hair, quietly pleased at the way the chaotic mass lay across her face. Satisfied at her appearance, and the impact she expected it to have on Yang, she reached for the door.

As she'd hoped, Yang stood in the kitchen, the thin tank-top and tight, high shorts she normally wore to bed still hugging her generous form. Blake remembered the feeling of her hands running across Yang's body, the incredible softness resting atop her muscles. Those hard abs, rippling under her touch. Sneaking behind her girlfriend, Blake wrapped her arms around the larger girl, tucking tightly under Yang's bra-less chest. Yang gasped from the surprise, Blake's arms pushing up the already prominent breasts.

"Good morning," Blake breathed, kissing the nape of Yang's neck. She smiled as Yang reacted to her touch, glad that she could get a rise out of her girlfriend after all the teasing Yang normally put her through.

"Someone's feeling frisky," Yang snot back, craning her neck back to kiss the top of Blake's head.

Blake's hand slid down the front of Yang's top to slip under the hem, tickling her tight stomach and causing the blonde to giggle. Her hand rose, sneaking up the shirt, Yang's breath growing heavy as Blake massaged her larger chest. Something she'd realized the night before – she loved that Yang was bigger than her in almost every way.

She slid her other hand down Yang's back, her fingers slipping down her shorts to grip the blonde's rear. Feeling her girlfriend try to slip away from the surprise, Blake playfully followed her target, sliding deeper between those powerful legs. Yang moaned, her hands grabbing onto the counter top as Blake ravished her from behind.

"Blake!" Yang gasped as the Faunus continued to stroke, her other hand still kneading Yang's magnificent breasts.

" _Somebody_ did all the work last night." Blake growled playfully, loving the feeling of having the blonde temporarily under her thumb. _Literally._ "It's only fair."

"Oka-ay," Yang said, voice pitching as Blake kept petting. Her back arched, Yang gasping as the movement bumped her clit against the stroking hand. "I'll come back to bed."

"I'm enjoying this right here," Blake purred, thinking about everything she normally did to herself and wanting to do it to Yang. Her fingers resting against Yang's twitching lips, she slid two fingers into Yang's slick pussy.

Yang cried out, in pain not pleasure, and Blake froze. Pulling her fingers out as gently as possible, she slid out of Yang's clothing, horrified at having hurt her. Apologizing, Blake turned Yang around, looking up into her face to see what was wrong.

"Yang, I didn't mean .... I just did what I normally ..." Blake fumbled for words, her heart pounding from the terror of injuring the gorgeous woman.

Yang cut her off with a hug. "I'm fine," she smiled, patting Blake's head reassuringly, "It was just a little ..." she trailed off. Catching her breath, she kissed Blake's forehead, beaming down into worried golden eyes.

"It can take a little while to get used to having sex with another girl," she said, an angel of kindness Blake wasn't sure she deserved. "Sorry, but those nails hurt."

Her hands pulled Blake's face back up to hers before sliding down the front of her robe to slowly untie the belt. Blake shivered as Yang's hands ducked beneath the cloth to slide up her body, lifting her smaller breasts and letting the nipples flick down through calloused fingers. Sliding over to her shoulders, Yang let the robe fall, leaving Blake completely naked in the morning air. Looking down, she saw the crotch of Yang's shorts was clearly damp, and took solace in the fact that she had managed to get her girlfriend equally horny.

Leaning in, Yang whispered in her ear, "Why don't we go back to bed, you take off my clothes, and I'll show you how to make me come."

Blake said nothing, knocking back Yang's nearby cup of coffee in a single go before sweeping Yang up into her arms. The taller girl shrieked happily from the surprise, her legs kicking playfully as she wrapped her arms around Blake's neck.

Blake tensed her jaw to keep from groaning. _Dear god, she's heavy._ The kicking didn't help, making her feel horribly off-balance whenever Yang moved. _Still, it is pretty cute._

Refusing to show the strain of Yang's weight, Blake bore her lover back to bed. She collapsed onto the mattress, the two girls falling in a tangle of arms and legs, Blake's lips on Yang's neck. She fumbled the blonde's top off, throwing it across the room in revenge for slowing her down. Yang slipped out of the shorts, not even getting them completely off her leg before Blake pounced, unable to resist the buxom woman. She dove into Yang's breasts, massaging that wonderful chest. Blake's spine arched as hands clawed gently down her back, stopping only to cup her ass. She moaned, loving the feeling of Yang's hands on her body.

Blake shrieked as Yang flipped her onto her back. Grinning, the larger girl locked her lips to Blake's before trailing kisses down the Faunus' chest. Stopping only to tickle her taut stomach, Yang's descended down between Blake's legs, kissing her thigh before looking back up. Blake could barely keep her eyes open, her breath coming in ragged pants as she gripped the headboard. Yang lowered her mouth to the Faunus' pussy, the rough tongue drawing up the length of her slit before her lips wrapped themselves around Blake's clit.

Her hips bucked up into Yang's mouth, gasping nonsensical protests all the while. _She_ was the one who was supposed to be leading, not Yang. After a minute, Blake felt the telltale twitching that heralded her orgasms, and instinctively thrust her hips towards Yang's incredible tongue, cursing the fact that Yang was so damn _good_ at this.

Yang stopped, her head pulling away just as Blake was on the verge of climax. The poor Faunus gasped in frustration, twitching and begging for release. Crawling back up her body, Blake's lover kissed her again, letting Blake taste herself on Yang's tongue.

"Your turn," Yang said as she broke the kiss.

Growling, Blake pounced, copying Yang's movements as she worked her way down the blonde's muscular form. Eyes closed, Blake kissed down past the brawler's waist, shocked to find no hair between her legs. Bare skin met her lips, causing Blake to look up at her lover in surprise.

"I wax," Yang said, startling Blake by actually looking sheepish at the admission.

Pleased she wasn't the only one embarrassed, Blake continued her journey down, kissing along Yang's thigh before finding herself between those powerful legs. Blake felt herself freeze as she stared at Yang's sex, the pink lips twitching as the blonde grew steadily wetter.

"Blake," Yang groaned, impatient for her lover's attention.

The dark-haired Faunus smiled before drawing her tongue up the length of those insatiable lips, letting the tip flick the girl's clit before sliding back down. Yang moaned, the sound grating on Blake's pride.

_I don't want approval. I want mind-blowing._

She glared up at Yang, the other girl completely oblivious as she lounged back against the pillows. _I swear, you won't be able to walk when I'm done with you._

Letting her tongue dart between Yang's folds, Blake searched for the most sensitive spots, doing her best to find a rhythm Yang liked. Hips bucked up against Blake's mouth, folds tightening as the blonde got closer, the hmms turning into outright moans. Pulling her tongue back up, she squeezed her lips around Yang's clit, tongue tracing circles around the bundle of nerves.

Blake heard Yang sigh her name as she came, hands stretching the sheets as her fists clenched. She lapped at her lover's juices, cleaning her as Yang basked in the afterglow. Hands touched her face, and Blake let the taller girl pull her up, their lips meeting as Yang kissed her gratefully. Blake melted atop her girlfriend, pitch-black hair spilling into blonde tangles, her soft curves and toned form twining with the voluptuous girl beneath her.

"How was it?" she asked, resting her face on Yang's conveniently-placed breasts as she snuggled into her lover's side.

"It'll do," Yang sighed. Blake sat bolt upright, glaring at this infuriating creature. She had done everything she could to please Yang. Just because she was less experienced, there was no reason for Yang to be so ....

Mouth half-open, she stopped as Yang caught her face in her hands, stroking the furrow from her brow as purple eyes beamed up at her.

"For the first course," Yang grinned evilly, tossing Blake onto her back before descending to devour her lips. Blake tried to purr, then gasped as Yang's fingers slid into her, the thrusts making her body curl instinctively around the insatiable blonde.

It was going to be a long morning.


	11. Bloody Brew - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Yang heads home, Blake deals with some uninvited houseguests.

_Vodka, beer and tomato juice in a mixing glass with ice. Stir well and add salt to taste – makes for a nice, heavy drink to smash over someone's head._

Blake stepped out of the shower, fighting the urge to hiss as cold air rushed in, ruining the warm comfort of her bathroom. She shivered, wet skin turning to gooseflesh as she pawed for a towel, half-blind from the water still dripping from her hair. She tossed on the clothes set beside the door, wrapping a thick robe around her to fend off the chill.

No matter what she tried, winter still managed to sneak into the apartment. Apparently, the over-the-top conservationist who'd designed her thermostat thought suffering from hypothermia was better than accidentally leaving the heat running. The automatic shut-off kicked in after only a few hours, and her complaints about it to the super had gone largely ignored. Pumping it as high as she could, she jammed the button a few more times for good measure, the angry gesture at least somewhat cathartic, if futile.

Shaking the last few droplets from her feet, Blake stepped onto the carpet of her bedroom, the thick shag infinitely warmer than the freezing tile. She stretched, her back arching like the animal whose ears she shared. Letting the tension seep from her muscles, Blake stared at the moonlit bed resting against the wall. A small smile split her lips, reliving the marathon session they'd had before Yang had rushed home, not wanting to worry her sister. Blake didn't think Ruby would mind. The younger sister should be used to Yang's dating habits by now.

She wished Yang had stayed. She'd asked her to, and Yang promised to return in the morning, but apparently checking on her sister took precedence over the new girlfriend.

 _That's not fair_ , the nicer part of her chided as moved towards her dresser. Yang didn't know it was Adam she'd seen, or about the body that would probably turn up in a landfill one day. Or, if he was being careful, never show up at all. As far as the blonde knew, her girlfriend was just being clingy at the start of the relationship.

_I'm clingy, just not for the reason she thinks._

A blast of cold air interrupted her, timed with the clatter of the bedroom window clashing against the wall. Blake crossed to the offending pane, forcing it shut against the wind and slamming the latch shut. The Faunus furrowed her brows. She thought she'd locked all the windows during her attempt to winter-proof the apartment. Shaking her head, she walked towards the open door, intent on double-checking the remaining locks.

A creak sounded from the other side of the wall, and Blake froze in her tracks.

It was probably nothing. Her apartment was part of an older building that was renovated during the reconstruction of downtown Vale, cramming the comparative comforts of home into an old, drafty shell. The apartment constantly creaked as pipes and walls grew and shrank with the shifting heat. It was normal for the place to creak and groan at all hours of the night.

It was probably nothing. I had probably just _sounded_ like the long, painful squeak that came when anyone stepped on the third plank from the right in the main hall, something she had meant to fix for weeks.

At least, that was what she told herself, straining her ears to hear over the howling wind that rasped at the old walls. The silence stretched on, the wind and her own pulse the only noise she heard. _A count of twenty_ , she decided, ignoring the nagging feeling that she was behaving like a child, afraid of things that went bump in the dark.

 _One._ It was probably just the apartment creaking.

 _Five._ Maybe the upstairs neighbor had a loose board, too.

 _Thirteen_. She was being an idiot, imitating a statue in the middle of her own house.

 _Ninetee ..._ The sound came again, that same cursed squeal resounding in her feline ears. Footsteps followed the creaking board, clicking as they moved onto the kitchen tile.

Blake shrank, making herself as small and low as she could in the shadows of the unlit room. Listening as hard as she could, she tracked the footsteps as the intruder – _intruders_ , she corrected herself, hearing a second pair of feet press down on the loose board – moved through her home.

As quickly as she dared, Blake slipped across the room and lunged for her dresser. She slid open the second drawer, reaching for her Shroud. Fingers scratched the bottom of the drawer – it was gone. She cursed silently, wracking her brain to remember where she'd left her weapon. Not stopping, Blake moved into the corner near the doorway, letting her dark clothing blend with the shadows. Flicking her dark hair to cover her face, she hid her hands into the sleeves of her robe, hiding as much skin as she could. She sat, perfectly still, still counting in her head, every nerve burning as she watched for her target to close in on the bedroom door.

There she waited, flexing occasionally to keep her muscles from going to sleep in the cramped position, her eyes never leaving the moonlit door. Her ears twitched as she heard one pair of shoes stop in front of the doorway. A shadow slowly broke the slice of moonlight that illuminated the doorway, looming large as the man entered the room.

Blake quickly took stock of the intruder as he crept into her bedroom. The dim light showed her a straight line of black, the balaclava that covered his face tucked into black clothing. He was just barely taller than her, maybe an inch at most, which made Blake's job that much easier. She ran through her plan again in her head, going through each technique and its counters as her muscles coiled to strike.

Crouching in the corner, Blake counted the seconds until the man extended his leg in the middle of his stride. She lashed out, her foot catching him in the side of his right knee. In the same movement, she knifed his throat with the side of her hand, bruising his windpipe. The leg buckled as the knee dislocated, his weight carrying him down onto the carpeted floor while he gasped for air, trying in vain to scream. An elbow to his temple left him unconscious as Blake caught him and lowered the unmoving body slowly to the floor. She froze for a moment, hoping the quiet choking noise or the shuffle of feet on the carpet hadn't drawn the other man. No pounding feet, no calls of concern, no shots from the darkness came, and Blake allowed herself to relax slightly.

Keeping an eye on the doorway, Blake pulled the body deeper into the room. She ran her hands through his pockets, caught between happy and disappointed when she found he wasn't carrying a gun. Instead, the man carried a length of wire bound to two small handles. Blake held the garrote, the sharp wire biting into her fingers, the meaning behind the weapon perfectly clear - someone sent these men to kill her, plain and simple. They wouldn't use a garrote for a kidnapping, and a wire wrapped around your neck made interrogation difficult. Blake could feel her prospects plummeting. She had hoped they were thieves; opportunists who'd decided the dark apartment was an easy target. Burglars could be dealt with, chased off, or detained. These men were practiced killers, their weapon of choice as deadly as it was silent. Even if she escaped, she doubted whoever hired them would give up that easily.

 _Adam._ Blake wanted to scream. No matter what she did, how far she ran, he hounded her. She'd known he would follow her when she left the Fang. The attacks on Vale, Torchwick, all of it just a warm up for the monster that poisoned the White Fang for his own revenge. Even after he'd died, it had taken years to track down the remaining cells. Now … now, just as she had something happy in her life, something she wanted to hold on to, he was back.

At this point, she probably should have expected it.

Blake realized her breath was coming in short bursts, her chest tight and pounding. She bit her lip, hard. She needed to calm down. She took a deep breath and waited for her pulse to slow. _Panicking now'll just get me killed_.

Adam was dead. She'd seen the body, the gaping wound from Crescent Rose staining his black coat with blood. No one could walk away from that. She hadn't told Yang about seeing him because it simply _couldn't_ be him. This was just her fear playing with her mind.

 _Focus on the problem in front of_ _you_ , she told herself, staring down at the unconscious form. With a grimace, she bound the man's wrists with his own garrote, the thin wire biting into the skin. Moving back into her corner, Blake left the body half-hidden behind the bed. One shoe still sat in plain view, asking for attention. Again she waited, invisible in her shadows, ears straining to hear the remaining intruder.

She didn't have long to wait. The brush of rubber soles on the carpet announced the man long before he poked his head through the door. After a second, he froze, and Blake could just make out the eye holes of the balaclava turning towards the foot poking out from behind the bed. He moved towards the body, pulling the strangle-wire from his pocket. He held it between his hands, leaving just enough slack to wrap around his target's throat. Blake fought the urge to swallow, doing her best to ignore the image of that wire wrapped around her neck.

His back was to her when she struck. Her foot snapped into the back of his knee and the man collapsed under his own weight. Blake pounced onto the man's back, fending off the flailing arms as she bore the killer down to the floor. She locked her arms around the man's neck, the choke-hold cutting off the air to his brain as she pushed against his carotid.

Then she made her mistake. She let her face get too far away from his head, giving the gasping man the room he needed. Jerking forward, he brought the back of his skull slamming into her jaw. Blake's grip loosened and he threw her off, leaving her to roll across the carpet before landing on all fours. She tasted blood in her mouth as he came at her, his roundhouse kick aimed at her head.

She turned and ducked under his leg, using the momentum to power her kick into his stomach. The man staggered backwards, slamming into the dresser. Blake followed, her elbow slamming into the man's jaw before he could recover. His hands came up just in time to block her punch to his neck. She bobbed her head in time to duck his return jab at her face.

She missed his knee as it slammed into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. A hand grabbed her hair and shoved, throwing her across the room, desperate to put some distance between them. Blake managed to roll onto her feet, but the movement was clumsy. She needed to end this now, before she made any more mistakes.

Blocking the wild roundhouse he threw at her jaw, she grabbed the back of his head as she swept his feet from under him. His weight carried him down as her hand slammed his skull into the footboard of the bed. She could almost feel the impact slam his brain against his skull as he went limp. Blake tossed the body back onto the floor, adrenaline still pounding in her blood as she slumped to the floor. She breathed, letting her heart rate slow as she recovered, her stomach and face still aching.

Blake had just finished tying the second man's hands when she heard it. The unmistakable click of pistol being cocked. She rolled to the side, dodging shots that never came. Grabbing the small lamp off the sideboard, she pulled her arm back to throw. Twirling, she found herself staring up into the barrel of a revolver.

"Drop it," an oddly mechanical voice snapped. Blake lowered herself to the floor, the lamp rocking against her foot as she dropped it. Running through her options, Blake had to keep from cursing as the list steadily shortened. This man was smarter than the others. He was careful, keeping just enough distance between them. It would be impossible to disarm him without giving the motion away. Still, he was close enough that Blake decided running for it was an equally bad option.

Staring past the barrel pointed at her chest, she looked at the killer standing in her bedroom. A short, thin blade extended out from beneath the chamber, more of a shiv than a real weapon. She glanced up at the man holding the odd little gun, looking for anything she could use, any opportunity to turn the tables. He was tall and lean, his stone-grey suit covered by a smoky overcoat that brushed against his thighs. An angular breathing mask covered the lower half of his face, paired with a dark peasant's cap that sat just above the eyes. Her Gambol Shroud was slung over his shoulder, the loose strap dangling. Blake's stomach sank.

The mask was what drew the eye, making it the noticeable feature of his face. Take it off, and he'd be a completely different man. Lose the coat and hat, and anyone looking for him in a crowd would just see another man in a suit. By the time they found the discarded clothes, he'd be long gone. _A professional, then_.

Brass knuckles glinted in his other hand, a matching shiv jutting down from his fist. Keeping his gun on her, the suit walked across the room to the unconscious would-be killers. Flicking his wrist, an identical revolver unfolded out of his closed hand, the knuckle-duster serving as the handle for the small weapon. Never taking his eyes from Blake, he pointed his second gun down at the two men, the telltale spat of suppressed bullets breaking the silence as he shot both men twice in the head. Blake crossed off several more ideas; she'd hoped that the man wouldn't want to give himself away with gunfire, but the silenced weapon meant he had few reasons not to simply shoot her and walk away.

"Sorry 'bout the carpet," his muffled voice came through the mask. "Overkill's necessary. People just don't stay dead these days." He stepped over the bodies, flicking the second revolver back into his palm, and shrugged apologetically.

Blake waited until he was pulling his back foot up and over the dead men. As soon as he shifted his weight, she kicked up and out, sending the lamp resting against her foot flying towards his face. His arms came up to shield him and Blake bolted, lunging for the open doorway.

Porcelain shattered and a bullet spat out, clipping the wall as she ran. The huntress flew through the apartment, hand reaching out for the front door. The doorknob twisted and she pulled, but the door refused to open. Two more panicked tugs, and she whirled away, diving behind the kitchen island as two more bullets thudded into the wall.

"I see you're going to make this difficult," came the mechanical, emotionless voice.

Blake's answer was a frying pan lobbed over the kitchen island, aiming towards that last gunshot. She yanked open the cabinet, pulling carving knifes from the small rack set into the door. They were meant for fish – a housewarming gift from Ruby – but they would carve into the intruder just as well. She shoved the only one with a cover into the inside pocket of the bathrobe, palming the others and crouching, waiting for him to move.

A small round puck slid along the tile, coming to a stop beside the island. Blake lunged for the disk; whatever it was, it wasn't something she wanted near her. There was nowhere else to go, either she threw it back at the assassin, or she moved into his line of fire. Just as she grabbed it, it clicked, letting out a foul-smelling mist. Blake held her breath, but she knew the damage was done. The knife fell from her hand as her fingers went numb; her weight carrying her down to the floor as her vision swam. She barely felt it when a hand reached down and gripped her hair, pulling her head up to stare into cold brown eyes.

"There we go," those eyes crinkled again as he smiled behind the mask. "Be a good little kitty, Belladonna. Go to sleep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested, the weapon used by the hitman is a modified Apache revolver mixed with a Stechkin revolver model. The Russian Stechkin uses a cool little revolver design that prevent the gas from escaping, making it an almost silent weapon, even without a suppressor.


	12. Violent Lady - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake deals with her uninvited guest.

_Equal parts Gin, Vermouth, Rum, and Vodka. Stir together with ice. Do not mess with this woman._

Blake woke with a start, her arms jerking against the zip-ties that bound her to the kitchen chair. A wave of nausea washed over her, the side effects of the knockout gas taking their toll. She ran her tongue across her teeth, relieved there was no taste of vomit. Small favors. Blake counted herself lucky. There was always the chance someone would have an allergic reaction to an anesthetic, and the near-toxic levels of most sleeping gasses made them even more dangerous and unpredictable. Anyone who used knockout gas had to carefully control the dosage or not care if the victim lived or died. She had a nasty feeling it was the latter.

Twisting her neck to look for the assassin, Blake winced as the room began to spin, the nausea returning to claw at her insides. Eyes closed, she waited for the symptoms to pass. Blinking, she scanned the room, careful to avoid any sudden movement that might worsen the side-effects. Dark sky still showed through the patio door, clumps of snow falling lazily, piling up in little tufts on the balcony. If only she wasn't tied to a chair with a killer in her home, the peaceful evening would have seemed almost magical.

Flexing her arms, she strained against the bonds, searching for some weakness, one loose tie she could slip. After a minute of fruitless struggling, she relaxed, slumping in the wooden chair. She was too well tied, her arms bound at the wrists and elbows to the solid wood. At least her ankles were bound together, not to the chair itself. She should be able to stand, as long as she could keep her balance. Something moved inside her bathrobe and she remembered the kitchen knife resting reassuringly in the inside pocket. It wasn't impossible to get free; if she could manage to break the wooden arms, she'd probably be able to reach the knife and cut the ties.

 _If_ being the operative word. She could topple the chair, but there was no guarantee that she'd snap the arms in the fall. Her body weight wasn't enough to strain the polished wood; she doubted falling to the side would do much more than leave her helpless on the floor, unable to get back up.

But it was _a_ plan, and the only one so far with any chance of success. Rocking her weight, she was about to throw herself to the ground when the man walked back into the room. Stopping the motion, she glared up at the hired gun, seeing her scroll resting in the palm of his unarmed hand.

"I trust you slept well," the distorted voice droned, the monotone sounding robotic through the breathing mask.

"Like a drugged-up baby." Vertigo and queasiness was not improving her mood.

"Good," he said, not noticing her anger or, more likely, not caring. Blake wasn't sure which annoyed her more.

"I need to make a call." He looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer that never came. She stared back in silence, wondering just how far down his throat she could shove that stupid mask.

Sighing, he leaned forward, waving her phone above her face.

"The password, please."

"Bite me."

With a flick of the wrist, the revolver end of his knuckle duster emerged from his grip, the shiv-like blade snapping forward. Almost lazily, he brought the tip of the knife along her face, stopping a fraction of an inch above her eye.

"A four digit pin has ten thousand possible combinations. I don't particularly care to try them all."

Blake glared up at him, weighing her options. She could refuse, and go out kicking and screaming in a blaze of stubborn glory. It was tempting, if only for the pleasure of driving a spike into the bastard's plans, but it wouldn't do much to improve her chances of escape. She wasn't foolish enough to leave anything sensitive on her scroll, so there wasn't that much damage he could do.

Blake slumped in the chair, letting her weight hang on the bindings. "Nine two six four," she mumbled, acting to all appearances the cowed captive.

Flipping the weapon back into his fist, the man reached for her phone. Pausing, he looked down at the numbers.

"That's adorable," the emotionless voice growled, unlocking the device with a swipe of his finger.

"What are you-"

"Quiet," he clipped, bringing the phone up to his ear. Blake could hear the muffled ringing sound as they waited for someone to pick up the phone. A synthetic voice began to murmur, and the man promptly hung up.

"It's so annoying when people leave their phones on silent," he quipped, dialing again.

This time, they didn't have to wait long. Whoever it was picked up shortly after the second ring. The man immediately started talking, not waiting for the person on the other end to speak.

"Good evening. I'm sorry for bothering you at home, but if you wish to see Miss Belladonna alive again, you will follow my instructions precisely. If you fail to follow any of these conditions, my men will contact me and she will die. You will come to her apartment, alone and unarmed. And they _will_ recognize your gauntlets. If you call anyone, such as the police, she will die. If you fail to arrive in the next half hour, she will die. Do you understand?"

"Dammit Yang, don't you dar-" Blake screamed, only to find the barrel of the man's weapon planted firmly against her throat. She stopped, still desperate to keep Yang from charging headlong into what was so obviously a trap. How could she have been so stupid?

"Sorry about that. Do you understand, Miss Long?" He paused. "Good. You now have twenty-nine minutes and fifteen seconds. I suggest you hurry."

As he hung up, he folded the revolver back into his palm, tossing her phone onto the table as he did. Blake watched as the little box slid along the wood, Yang's name fading from the screen as the call history window came up.

A scream of rage was halfway to Blake's lips before she read the number on the screen. The invective died in her throat as she blinked, dragging herself away from her anger.

She forced herself to breathe, taking stock of the situation. Her were arms tied to the chair – not particularly fragile, but she could break it given enough time. The sliding glass door across from her led out to the balcony, the curtains still bundled up in a closet and in need of repair. The length of the kitchen knife still pressed against her through the bathrobe. Unreachable, but comforting nonetheless.

There were a few options. She could try to break free, but it was impossible as long as he was in the room. She needed to keep him talking, stall for time.

"Don't suppose you'd tell me who hired you."

"I respect my clients' confidentiality." The man swept his coat around his legs before perching at the opposite end of the table, legs crossing as he leaned back in the chair.

He leaned the chair back to rest against the wall, flicking the revolver in and out of his fist. Blake glared. She knew the movement was meant to draw her eye, to focus her on the weapon that could end her life at any time. It was a power play, designed to make her nervous.

_He likes to play with his food. That, I can use._

"Why the extra men? Why not just ambush me yourself?"

The man raised one eyebrow before staring down at her over the rim of the mask, the pistol still popping in and out of his fist as he talked.

"A distraction. You don't go after a huntress with brute force," he paused, brows furrowing. "Honestly, I expected you to kill them."

"I don't like killing."

"I might believe that, if it weren't coming from an ex-terrorist."

 _Shit_. She had been very careful to erase every record she could find of her past with the White Fang, but there was always might be a hard copy held in some dusty archive. That, or whoever hired him had their own connections to the White Fang.

 _Adam_. Blake filed the name away, and the myriad emotions that came with it. _Compartmentalize and focus. He's not here, so deal with the problem at hand._

"You have a name?"

He sat in silence, ignoring her.

"What, no alias?" she said, making her voice as sarcastic as possible. "No moniker to strike fear in the hearts of your victims?"

"Serial killers need recognition. I just want my fee."

 _Bullshit_. Every word out of his mouth dripped with ego, self-importance, and pride _. He's kind that likes to gloat._

He leaned forward, the muscles visible around the mask pulling up in a grotesque smile that never touched his eyes.

"I will say this. My client really hates you. The conditions for this contract were ridiculous."

"What, you take requests?"

"In the premium package. Still, I had to charge double for yours."

"Why?"

"Because I can't kill you until you watch me murder the person you care for most."

Blake had always wondered how Yang must feel when she went into a rage, her eyes doing that gorgeous color shift as she pounded some deserving soul into oblivion. Now, she understood. She strained against her bonds, every fiber of her being wanting nothing more than to tear that bastard to pieces. The chair creaked as she strained, but the tough wood refused to break, her struggles doing nothing but amusing her captor.

"Now that's a nice expression," he laughed, a short bark the mask garbled almost beyond understanding.

"There's no way this ends well for you," she snapped, biting back the torrent of obscenities that ran through her mind. "Killing a huntress puts a big damn target on your back."

He stopped playing with his gun, the barrel clicking back against the grip as he looked at Blake.

"Tomorrow morning, the police will find your girlfriend's body in your apartment, shot in the head with your weapon. The cops'll hunt for Vale's new 'most wanted' for a few weeks, but they'll never find your body. The press will have a field day with the scandal."

He leaned back in his chair, that damn smile still plastered on the bits of his face she could see around the breathing mask.

"Two huntresses, a lesbian affair, murder most foul. The killer was even ex-White Fang. They'll eat it up."

"Ruby and Weiss will never buy that."

His head tipped to the side as he shrugged. "Your teammates will deny it, but time will wear them down. They'll catch themselves doubting, wondering if you could have been a murderer. Then one day they'll admit you killed their partner, their friend. You'll be hated by everyone you ever cared about."

"You're insane."

"Me?" the killer leaned forward, those dead eyes widening in mock innocence. "I just follow the terms in the contract. Someone wants you dead, in a very bad way."

"And who would that be?" Blake pressed. Whatever the man's claims to anonymity, this was someone who liked watching his victims squirm. Give him a chance to twist the knife, and he'd start sharpening a shiv.

"Rules are rules."

He sighed, looking at his watch as he stood and moved around the table. Stopping in front of her, he laid out his weapons, checking the chambers before spinning the cylinders back in.

"I'm getting bored with this. At least most contracts have the courtesy to beg for their lives."

Blake sneered, "Sorry I couldn't be more entertaining."

His gaze came back up briefly. Dropping down to her face, his eyes narrowed as he began playing with his gun again.

"Keep quiet or I muzzle you. It'll be fun to see how long it takes the news to add pet play to the interspecies-lesbian-huntress murder scandal."

Blake breathed, the air fueling the cold fire burning in her chest. It had been a long time since she wanted someone dead – _really_ wanted someone dead. A few brief tortures flashed through her mind as she swore that no matter what happened that night, she was going to find this man and make him scream.

Lost in thoughts of shattering both his knees, Blake wasn't sure she saw it at first. A small light blinked, lonely in the moonlit night. It came again, a series of flashes from a few buildings over. It was now or never. He'd realize his error soon enough. She had to move. Or better yet, get him to move her – the less warning he had the better.

"You made two very big mistakes."

"I won't warn you again."

"First, you really should have used a window with curtains."

Blake had just enough time to brace herself before his unarmed knuckles slammed into her face. She threw her weight to the side, letting the backhanded slap knock the chair over, throwing her to the floor.

 _Shit._ The chair hadn't even budged.

She watched as he turned towards the window, scanning the night sky for the threat. He whirled back to Blake, the pistol coming up as he aimed for Blake's head.

"Second, Yang never answers the home phone."

A gunshot cut through the silence of the snowy night.

* * *

Ruby closed the door to the apartment she shared with Yang, one last breath of snow spiraling in through the crack. Kicking off her boots, she threw her cloak over the rack before flopping down on the couch, letting the leather cushions bounce her weight as she settled. Slouching on the cushions, she grinned, thinking about those last few hours in Weiss' home. Weiss had finally kicked her out, insisting she head home to Yang before the older sister came and kicked down her door.

Somehow, Ruby still beat Yang home. No calf-length duster hung by the door, no pair of frozen boots sat melting in the hall. Ruby grinned, knowing the most likely reason for Yang's tardiness. Her sister had been so nervous for her date with Blake – well, nervous for Yang at least. She tried to remember the last time she'd seen Yang go all out for a first date, and realized she couldn't. Ruby hoped that it had gone well for the two friends. They deserved a little happiness. Or a lot, knowing Yang. She wasn't the kind of girl to do things by half-measures.

_Then again, she's gonna be in fine form when she finds out about me and Weiss._

Ready to eat a little crow if it meant she got to keep spending time with the heiress, Ruby sighed, stretching her arms as she kicked herself up off the couch. What she needed now, she decided, was coffee. Heading into the kitchen, she slid Yang's arcane caffeination apparatus aside, reaching past the beakers and tubes to grab the mundane pot-and-filter.

She smiled, exhausted and content as she dumped sugar into the black liquid. Sipping the almost-too-sweet mixture, Ruby cuddled back into the leather couch, wrapping the comforter around her legs.

Staring into the swirling concoction, Ruby's mind drifted back to the bath, to the question she hadn't wanted to answer. _I don't know what we are._ It wasn't exactly true. She could think of several labels for the two of them, some of them less charitable than others.

_I guess 'lovers' would be the closest. For now._

The ringing phone pulled her from her thoughts, the retro dial-phone sound breaking the silence.

Ruby smiled. It was probably Yang. Hopefully, it was a very happy Yang saying she wasn't coming home tonight.

She picked up the receiver. A joke on her lips, Ruby had barely opened her mouth when a man's voice spoke.

"Good evening. I'm sorry for bothering you at home, but if you wish to see Miss Belladonna alive again, you will follow my instructions precisely."

Ruby could feel the bottom of her stomach drop as she listened, the kidnapper listing his demands.

No weapons, no cops. His men would know if Yang brought anything, called anyone. Do anything he didn't like, and Blake was dead.

_His men?_

Ruby rushed to the window, careful to keep from rustling the curtains. Pulling the edge aside as much as she dared, she peered out, hoping the snow would make the watchers easier to spot.

 _There._ A man sat under the bus depot, a newspaper in his hands, his neck craned to watch the front of the building. Ruby couldn't see more without giving herself away, but there had to be more of them.

"Dammit Yang, don't you d-" Blake yelled before getting cut off.

"Sorry about that," the voice said, sounding … mechanical. _Is he using a voice changer?_ "Do you understand, Miss Long?"

Ruby swallowed, then lowered her voice as much as she could. "Yeah," she said, trying her best to sound like Yang.

She lowered the drapes as the kidnapper delivered his timetable. Twenty-nine minutes for Yang to get there. _And do what?_ He hadn't asked for money, for anything that would make someone kidnap their friend. It reeked of a trap.

 _Yang_. They thought he was talking to Yang. Ruby ran the chances through her head, her hands caressing the familiar weight of her scythe. If he'd told his men to look for Yang, for a pissed-off Amazonian blonde, they might not pay attention to the other sister. Of course, if they'd been watching them for any length of time, they would know who Ruby was. Still, it was Blake's best chance.

Slamming Crescent Rose into the holster at her back, she looked longingly at the scarlet cloak draped over the coat-rack. She sighed, grabbing one of Yang's darker leather jackets from the hall closet. No sense in making herself anymore of a target than she already was. The fur-collared coat was a size too big, but she preferred that to the alternative. Satisfied that the jacket hid enough of the massive weapon, Ruby slipped out into the hall, bolting for the stairwell and taking the stairs two at a time.

She stopped as she reached the bottom floor. A mistake here would kill Blake. She needed to be careful, insignificant. Ruby opened the stairwell door, turning away from the doorman's desk. Hopefully, she looked like any of a dozen tenants walking to the mailroom. She darted to the side, sidling up against the lever for a red-marked door. 'Alarm will sound' was splashed across the steel, a mandate of some amusingly specific building code, but Ruby knew the doorman liked his smokes. Sure enough, the door opened silently when she pushed, and she stepped out into the night.

She walked the alley, careful not to go too fast, not to show any sign that she was the one responding to the urgent call. After rounding a block or two, Ruby felt sure she had lost anyone who might have seen her.

She looked down at her watch, her heart racing as she saw ten minutes had already gone by. She would never make it to Blake's building on foot, not in time to help. Crescent Rose rested against her back, her baby's weight almost begging her to use it. The weapon was already in her hand when the thought crossed her mind; there wasn't time for second-guessing. Ruby planted the barrel against the concrete, shifting her grip on the shaft as she braced herself.

Filing away the excuses she'd have to use for the sudden appearance of a few oddly large bullet holes, Ruby fired, Crescent Rose propelling her up and out, arcing over the snow-covered city. Her arms strained, the hard muscles long used to the kick of her weapon. She felt the wind shift as her momentum began to die, the wind blowing up past her ears as she fell towards the ground.

A building rushed up to meet her, the concrete roof long and wide. Unfolding the scythe out in front of her, Ruby slashed down as she hit, the blade flipping her up and over. She landed on the roof, the move slowing her descent enough to keep her from face-planting on the hard surface. She looked back, wincing at the massive scar she'd left behind in the concrete.

Ruby fired again, making sure the angle of the shot would keep the bullet embedded in the roof, not ricocheting off into the city. A little property damage could be handled, but she'd never forgive herself if one of her shots hurt an innocent. Ruby repeated the process, letting Crescent Rose carry her across the city in leaps and bounds. Any other time, she would have enjoyed the feeling of the wind rushing past her face, the illusions of super-heroism, but Blake didn't have time for her to enjoy the flight.

It took her eight minutes before the apartment building was in sight at the top of her arc. Straightening her body, Ruby aimed for a brownstone four blocks away, shielded from Blake's apartment by the office complex that loomed up beside it. Landing on the roof, Ruby caught her breath, nervous about firing so close to the kidnapper. If he heard her ….

She saw it. An open window on the office building. Even with the distance, it looked large enough to slip through, but if she missed, she'd be so many small pieces smashed into the pavement. Forcing the image from her mind – no time to worry – she set her scythe behind her and charged across the roof, leaping off at the last second, hurtling toward the small square of light. Pulling her scythe back, she cleaved down and out, the edge sinking deep into the barrier between her target and the room above. Inertia carried her forward, the handle of the scythe tearing at her arms as it pulled her body up and through the window. Ruby clipped the wall as she went in, the molding crashing against her side as she somersaulted into the room.

Gritting her teeth through the pain – she guessed it was a cracked rib – Ruby looked around the room. A middle-aged man sat behind the desk, sweater-vest fighting a losing battle against his expanding gut. His eyes went wide, jaw gaping as he stared at the angel of death that had flown through his window.

Shrugging apologetically, Ruby bolted for the door, thanking him as she rushed by. She tore down the hall, almost ripping the staircase door off its hinges. Staring down, Ruby thanked whatever architect had designed the building with quarter-landing stairs, jumped over the railing into the gap, and fired.

Ruby sailed up, hoping the concrete stairwell would muffle the sound of the gunshot. Catching the hand rail on the second-to-last landing, she hauled herself up and over, pushing her aching legs to keep going. Making it to the door, she forced it open, bursting out onto the snow-covered roof.

More worried about being seen than heard, the huntress half-crawled to the edge of the building, levering her rifle around to balance on the roof's edge. Sinking the blade deep into the roof, Ruby stabilized the weapon as best she could. Flipping the fur-lined hood of Yang's jacket up and over her face, she shielded her eyes from the snow, gazing through the sight as she looked for Blake's apartment.

There. Fourth floor, right of the elevator, five rooms down. The sight telescoped out, focusing on the one clear rectangle that mattered. Blake sat at the kitchen table, arms tied flat to the chair. Her lips moved – she was talking to someone. Ruby followed Blake's eyes, searching for her captor. A foot moved, the leg barely visible past the line of the wall.

 _Dammit_. Ruby could shoot through the wall; Crescent Rose shouldn't have too much trouble firing a full-power round through a few inches of brick and drywall. There was just a greater chance that she'd miss, giving him the chance to hide, or worse, use Blake as a shield.

She was about to change position, try to get a better angle, when he moved into sight. A tallish man, coat and hat hiding most of his figure, stepped out from behind the edge of the glass. Pulling back the bolt of the rifle, Ruby tried to follow the movement and swore as he stepped in front of Blake. She couldn't fire, not if there was the chance she could hit her friend.

She needed him to move to the window. Needed a clean shot. Not liking her choices, Ruby picked the safest one. Keeping the sight centered on the kidnapper's chest, she yanked her phone from her pocket, making sure not to ruin her night vision with the light from the bright screen. Placing it flat against the knee-high wall that ran the edge of the roof, she raised it, two long flashes before lowering it back to the wall. She waited a count of three before repeating, this time three long flashes. She kept signaling, waiting for Blake to see, hoping the man wouldn't turn and catch the light blinking off the distant roof.

Blake said something and the man slammed his hand across her face. Blake fell, the chair toppling to the side as the man moved towards the window. _Good job, you clever ninja_.

Ruby pushed back the cold that bit at her feet and hands, and let the world fall away but for the man in her sights.

* * *

The glass shattered as the sniper round punched a hole deep into the hitman's shoulder, the sheer force spinning him forward against the table. The man screamed, the round decimating his shoulder, leaving only a mass of broken flesh and shattered bone. Snarling, he pointed his remaining weapon back at Blake, only to dive aside just before the second shot came, shattering the table and embedding itself in the floor.

Blake forced herself to her feet, rotating her hips before slamming the chair into the hard marble of the kitchen island. The wood cracked, then broke, the slab of wood still strapped to her arm now merely an annoyance. She grabbed the kitchen knife, cutting herself free before squinting through the incoming snow.

There. A brief flash of movement in the bedroom. Blake tore after the man, grabbing the Gambol Shroud off the ground as she ran. Drawing the blade, she leapt into the room just in time to watch him throw himself out the nearest window, glass shattering as his remaining shoulder broke the pane. Blake heard the metallic smash as he landed on the fire escape. She ran to the window, pointing the pistol of her weapon down and out as she blinked snow from her eyes.

A dented railing was all she saw, the rust-and-snow covered metal now smeared with blood. He was gone.

"Blake!" Ruby's cry cut through the wind howling through the shattered glass, followed by a horrendous crash as her teammate slammed into the balcony. Blake sighed, heading back into the main room to check the damage from her impatient friend. The scythe had caught hold of the balcony, a deep hole gouged in the metal and concrete from where she'd levered herself up. Blake resigned herself to the damage. The apartment already had several broken windows and bullet holes - it wasn't like there was much of a security deposit left to lose.

The Faunus gasped as Ruby plowed into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her as they crashed to the ground. Blake tried to catch her breath, wondering if the spinning room was an aftereffect of the sleeping gas or if Ruby had just given her a concussion.

"My god, are you okay?" Ruby asked, the large hood of an oversized jacket keeping the snow from her face. "Did I get him?"

Blake looked up into those worried gray eyes, wrapping her arms around Ruby as she hugged the girl. A part of her wished it was the other sister she was holding, that it was Yang's comforting arms wrapping around her. The rest of her was simply happy to be alive.

"Yeah. You got him."


	13. Dirty Secret - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake deals with the aftermath of the attack, Weiss chews out her girlfriend, and Yang has a few valid concerns.

_Verte absinthe over cracked ice, top with cola and lime. The secret is the absinthe kicking you in the balls._

The two men stood in front of the shattered window, the broken glass scattered at their feet mixing with the snow that blew in through the now-permanently open wall. Dark coats topped the usual plainclothes shirt-and-slacks.

The bearded man whipped off his aviator glasses, peering down at the open balcony.

“Now this is what I’d call a cold case.”

“As cold as they get,” the other replied, his spiky hair freckled with white.

“You know what I hate?”

“Pirates?”

“Break-ins. Dirtbags always gotta leave a mess.”

“Oh, we’re gonna find this guy. Then we’re gonna have a long conversation about respecting other people’s property.”

“Yeah, with all this blood loss, he’s really gonna need ... a shot in the arm.”

“I like the way you think.”

Blake rolled her eyes, wondering how on earth the two cops had been kept on the force in the first place. She watched as the police poked around her apartment, clipping samples of the carpet where the two men were shot, flashing cameras taking pictures of the wreckage.

The two men she’d taken down were gone, the bodies taken away long before Ruby had chased off the man in the mask. The bloodstains remained at least, and at this point, Blake was willing to take what she could get. Three sets of bloodstains went a long way to supporting her story. Without them, she probably couldn’t have convinced the police why her friend had fired a military-grade sniper rifle into her apartment.

Someone wrapped a thick blanket around her shoulders before shoving a cup of cocoa into her hands – Blake couldn’t fathom why. Apparently, it was what they were supposed to do. It did manage to keep her warm in the newly open-air apartment, so Blake held onto the blanket and cup as she watched the uniforms go through her life with a fine-toothed comb.

She gritted her teeth at the unwelcome – if necessary – intrusion. They weren’t going to much, other than the blood splatter left by Ruby’s round. Blake had taken a sample herself before the investigators arrived, so she watched quietly as the men and women pointed at this or that, commenting on the damage and jotting notes down on clipboards.

 _I am_ never _getting my deposit back._

Looking around, she spotted her rescuer sitting in the warmer hallway, shirt pulled up halfway as a paramedic checked her ribs. Ruby had cracked two during her mad rush to help Blake, and had flatly refused to say how she’d managed it. Weiss stood over her, berating the injured girl for her carelessness, for not calling for help, and for generally ‘Being  _such_  an idiot!’

About halfway through the third repetition of ‘how dare you,’ Ruby winced. The uniformed young medic had pressed on one of the damaged bones while listening to Ruby breathe. Seeing Ruby in pain, Weiss’ fury found a new target, the heiress descending like a harpy to harry the poor woman.

Mid-tirade, Blake watched as the injured girl reached for Weiss’ hand, their teammate freezing as the Ruby squeezed her fingers gently. Mouth closing, Weiss huffed and sat against the wall, still scowling. Ruby muttered something before resting her head on Weiss’ shoulder, leaving the confused medic to finish her examination before fleeing the insane woman who guarded her patient.

 _Gotta get Ruby to teach me that trick,_ Blake thought. She wondered what Ruby had said to her. There wasn’t much that could calm the heiress down when she worked herself into a real rage. Then again, Ruby _was_ the best at it, probably because she was usually the one who annoyed Weiss the most.

“Miss, if you don’t mind, I have a couple of questions,” a voice said behind her.

Filing the oddly intimate scene away in the back of her mind, Blake sighed. She’d been dreading that phrase since the patrol cars pulled up. The first officer to talk to her had been pulled away by one of the others, so Blake had waited patiently for the next one, and then the next one. She’d already given three identical accounts of the night, each listening policeman more tired and uninterested than the last.

“Detective, actually.” Blake turned, and found herself facing a slim man in a thick woolen coat, his breath misting in the frigid air. He could only be a few years older than her at most, tousled brown hair and unshaven face mounted over an off-kilter emerald tie.

The scruffy detective flashed white teeth as a rueful grin slid across his face. “Detective Vardon. Sorry ‘bout the wait.”

Blake took the offered hand, his rough calluses rubbing against her own. He had a swordsman’s hands, same as her, with rough patches of skin just under their fingers, hardened from years of practice. He let go quickly, not lingering any longer than would be polite.

“You got here quick for a home invasion call at one in the morning,” she said.

The lopsided grin flashed again. “Apparently, people pay attention to rifle fire at midnight.”

She ignored the mild rebuke – Ruby was more than capable of keeping civilians out of harm’s way. Plus, their huntress licenses let themwork in the city under ‘special circumstances.’ Blake was pretty sure the attempted murder of a teammate counted as ‘special.’ The detective seemed more amused than anything, something she took as a good sign. The last thing she wanted was a turf war with the VPD.

Reaching into a pocket, he pulled a small notebook up to his nose, leafing through the pages as he spoke.

“The officer who took your statement said you were attacked by two armed men?”

“That’s correct.”

“Two armed men whom you knocked unconscious, before tying up.”

“Yes.”

“These men were killed by a third, masked assailant. He then called in a ransom before being shot by another huntress,” the detective looked up from the notebook, and met her eyes with a weary look.

“That about sums it up.”

He sighed and back to his notes. “Any idea what he did with the bodies?”

“No. I was unconscious for a while.”

“And nobody, at any point, thought of _maybe_ calling the police?”

Blake gestured wordlessly at the men behind her, still mid-banter about crime and pun-ishment.

Vardon glanced up and rubbed his eyes, air rushing out of him in a bone-deep sigh. “Point taken.” Flipping the notebook shut, he slid it back into his coat, pulling the tan wool tighter around his shoulders before stuffing his bluing fingers back in the pockets.

“We’ll need you to sit down with a sketch artist. Might catch something. They’ll want to do one of the third man as well, although from your description, I’m not sure how much good it’ll do. With any luck, we’ll have their prints or DNA in the system. It’ll give us a better idea what’s going on here.”

Blake nodded absently, her eyes drawn to the blur of yellow that coming through the hall. Excusing herself, she stepped past the detective, following the golden streak into the wrecked kitchen.

Yang stood in the middle of the orderly chaos, a solitary streak of brown leather and blonde hair against the swirling snow and milling uniforms. Her huntress credentials must have gotten her past the police line. That, or the murderous glares she shot at anyone who got near her. With the assembled cops giving her a wide berth, she hunted through the damaged room, looking at bullet holes and bloodstains.

Blake watched Yang work, leaning against the door frame, waiting for ... something. She wasn’t sure what. The team had more-or-less established a routine over the past couple years. Ruby was always the one to worry, to stress over her friends’ health. Blake had heard ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ more times than she cared to count, but something about those panicked silver eyes made it impossibly endearing. Weiss got tense, switching between worried looks and gentle – and some not-so-gentle – rebukes.

It took both a long time to relax, already frayed nerves growing thinner as the two dealt with stress. Not Yang. Yang was the one who’d pull you into those massive arms and crush you half to death. Convinced you were still in one piece, she’d put you down, grinning to cover any worry she might have had.

_... I could really use one of those hugs right about now._

She cleared her throat, hoping the soft sound would be enough to get Yang’s attention. No such luck. The blonde didn’t even turn around, still focused on her work.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you.” Blake blurted out, the words sounding even more awkward as she said them.

“Sounded like you were a bit busy,” Yang said, not taking her eyes from the scene. Using the tips of her gauntlets, she pried a piece of the sniper round out of the floor. She tossed it over her shoulder like so much trash, leaving an annoyed CSI to catch it mid-air in an evidence bag, all the while shooting murderous glares at the huntress.

“You know what happened?”

Yang nodded absently, still focused on the damage. “One of the cops told me.”

Blake smiled a little. Trust Yang to bully the police into giving her a report. Resigned to Yang being distracted, she shifted into a more comfortable position, exhaustion washing over her as the last bit adrenaline left her system.

“Find anything?”

The blonde kept her back to the Faunus, her head buried in the wreckage. “This was a rush job.”

“Sorry?”

“Ruby only saw one person watching our place. This guy insisted on using your phone to call me at home, and didn’t know I leave it off the hook to dodge telemarketers. Ruby’s the only one who answers the damn thing.”

“So?”

Yang stood, looking at another bullet hole left by the hitman’s revolvers. She counted off on her fingers as she spoke. “So if this had been planned, he should have had more men watching us. He could have found my number ahead of time and just used a burner. And they would have gone after me first, rather than using you to try and trap me.”

Yang turned around, her eyes still gleaming red in the dim light. Blake could see the muscles in her jaw clench once she stopped, the grinding of her teeth loud in Blake’s excellent ears.

“This guy was rushed. Or just not very good.”

“Maybe your average hitman has a hard time making switch to kidnapper.”

Yang shoulders went stiff. Turning, she finally met Blake’s gaze, her eyes still glazed red with anger. “This wasn’t someone wanting you dead. This was someone needing you dead now _._ So,” Yang took a deep breath, her voice strained, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Blake, I know when you’re being evasive. And I really doubt whoever you saw yesterday was just some old battle buddy. Whatever you’re hiding just put both you and my sister in danger, so tell me what the hell is going on!”

“Sorry to interrupt,” a dry voice said as Vardon stepped into the room.

Blake refused to look away from Yang, golden eyes burning into red-tinged ones. Oblivious to the sparks shooting between the women, the young detective continued his lazy stroll across the room.

“The uniforms should have asked for it, but we’re gonna need your scroll. Fingerprints,” he added by way of an explanation.

Blake grabbed the little black rectangle and tossed it at the detective, who grabbed it deftly from the air before popping it into a small clear bag.

“Thanks for your co-operation. We’ll keep you updated of any developments.”

The scruffy brown head turned to leave and Blake opened her mouth, ready to loose her return volley at Yang.

“One last thing.”

Blake bit her cheek to keep from screaming at the detective, swallowing the retort as she turned her head to glare at the interruption.

“This place won’t be livable for a while, and we need to keep the scene from getting contaminated. You have a place to stay?”

“She’s staying with us.” Yang snapped, her voice harsh.

Vardon’s gaze bounced back and forth between the two, his eyebrows raised. “Well, uh ... thank you for your time. I’m just gonna go ... not be here right now,” he nodded and backed away, coat swishing as he left the room.

“Yang-” Blake started, before Yang cut her off.

“I get it, you wanted to deal with this on your own. Fine. I should kinda be used to it by now. But I’m your damn _partner_ , so for once, would you please just rely-”

“Adam’s alive,” Blake blurted out, unable to listen to Yang’s diatribe any longer.

A mixture of pity and anger showed on Yang’s face. “Adam’s dead. Having your heart ripped out by a scythe tends to do that.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped. I know that this has to be hard on you, but getting this mixed up with-”

“I saw him,” Blake cut her off. She didn’t, she couldn’t, hear this right now. Not from Yang. “It wasn’t my imagination. He  _moved_  like Adam.”

Yang shook her head, clearly not believing her. “I saw the body. You don’t come back from something like that.”

“The guy who was going to kill me, the one Ruby shot,” Blake hissed quietly, struggling to keep the anger out of her voice. “He knew I was White Fang.”

“Yeah, well, there’s more than a couple people who know that.”

“How many of them would hire someone to kill me?”

“Fine.” Yang snapped. “Some surviving White Fang member sent a half-assed killer after you. It still doesn’t mean that your ex-boyfriend came back from the dead.”

“Yang, I’m telling you, he’s bac-”

“I don’t care!” Yang screamed, the few remaining investigators fleeing for cover. “And if he is back, I’ll blow his damn head off!”

Yang’s hand came up, her arm shaking with tension as she pulled at her hair. Blake swallowed, brows furrowed as she looked at the blonde. Yang’s hands only did that when she  _really_  wanted to punch something. When she was ...

Then she met her eyes, and Blake froze. Red pools stared back at her beneath Yang’s blonde brows. Not glaring, just an oddly flat, cold stare.

Blake would have preferred the yelling.

“Yang, I ne-”

“Excuse me,” a rough voice came from the doorway. “If you don’t mind, I have a couple of questions.”

“I already spoke to the other detective,” Blake snapped at the heavy-set, balding man who’d just walked into the room. Yang broke away, a guttural growl cutting through the blonde’s clenched teeth. Her own teeth clenched, Blake ran a hand through her hair, doing everything she could to keep from screaming at the constant distractions.

“What other detective?” the weary voice asked, gleaming head popping out of his notes.

“Vardon. Brown hair, tan coat, dark green tie.”

The squat man’s brow furrowed with the description of his partner.

“You mean that other huntsman who came to debrief you?”

Even over her pounding pulse, she could practically hear the gears jamming in the cop’s head. Blake’s eyes snapped back to Yang, realization mixing with rage on her face.

“Son of a b-”

Yang’s metal fist exploding through the wall covered the last of her invective, leaving the cops stunned as she stormed from the room.

* * *

The man in the gray coat slammed into the brick wall, the grime of the alley smearing itself down his clothes as he slid to the ground. He caught himself on his one good arm, flopping down to sit in the snow and muck, held up only by the red clay at his back. He stared up at his rescuer, wordlessly glaring from beneath the brim of the peasant cap. Trying to rise, he was thrown back as the woman pinned him to the wall with her boot, the black puppy heel planted firmly against his open wound.

Dark eyes widened from the pain, but no sound emerged from behind the matte black mask that covered his mouth. Dark, angry eyes met hard brown ones as the woman stared at him, the disgust evident on her face.

"Ooh itsh," the man gagged through the mask, his voice strained and muffled. He tried to sit up, howling as the woman drove her heel ever deeper into his bleeding flesh. Reaching down, she swatted away his flailing hands, pulling the knuckle dusters from his pockets. Slowly, she slid them over her long, gloved fingers, the weapons fitting her hands perfectly.

"That's no way to talk to your employer," the mask's robotic voice chastised in sync with the woman's, mixing in unholy harmony. A polite smile played across her lips, failing to reach those stone-cold eyes. "Especially not after I dragged your pathetic hide out of the mess you left."

The murderous glare slid off the woman like water, the man's fruitless struggling met only with more pressure from her boot. Reaching into her ashen coat, the woman pulled out a small black square, pressing one of the buttons before sliding the remote back into her pocket.

The mask clicked, a seam appearing in the angular front as it split, the robotic mechanism whirring as it separated from the man's face. Small joints hit their limits as the sides divided, pulling on thin arms. With automated indifference, clear plastic was drawn painfully from the man's mouth, the tracheal tube sliding up his throat as the mask pulled. He gagged as the tube came free, gasping for the first fresh air he had tasted in days. Pulling the mask from his face, the man flung the contraption into the street. Blood spat from his mouth, dying the snow an oddly cheerful pink.

"You bitch," he repeated, spitting in his hatred. The woman sighed before flexing her long leg, grinding the heel in his wound. The man screamed, silenced by a raised eyebrow and the hand that reached back into her pocket. He gasped for air, eyes never leaving the hand that threatened to re-activate the horrible mask.

"I commend you for following my directions so effectively. A captive performer for a captive audience makes the experience so much more visceral." She sighed, her hand pulling pitch-black tresses back against her neck, fighting the wind that blew them into disarray. Her voice lowered, a playful whisper that dripped menace. "I've always loved a good ventriloquist."

"Glad to be your dummy," the man spat back, his consonants slurring as he spoke. "You could 'ave told me about the friend with the rifle."

She slid her boot almost gently from his shoulder, the heel leaving small red marks in the snow as she walked away.

"If I had told you, you would have dodged, and I couldn't have you killing Miss Belladonna." She smiled, shock white teeth that seemed just a little too long, and a little too sharp. "Not yet at least."

Glaring at her retreating back, he cursed, pushing himself to his feet.

"Why not? No one would miss a little fur-licker."

The woman sighed, her hair whipping in the wind as she turned. "Unlikely. Her friends would mourn her passing. The same cannot be said of you."

The alley howled as the wind rushed through it, the unspoken threat hanging in the air as the man tried to stare down the woman.

The suited man blinked first, one hand coming up to rip the tie free of his collar. The shirt hung open at the neck, one more note of defiance against the woman and her bizarre demands.

"We done?"

"Oh yes. You may consider your debt paid in full." Smiling, the woman drew her hand from her pocket and shot him twice in the head. The man wavered for a moment, then slumped back against the wall. His face was frozen in shock, a mask of fear and pain marred only by the two streams of blood that trickled down his face and the crater that made up the back of his skull.

Flicking the revolver back into her palm, she slid her hands into the warm refuge of her coat. Leaning down, she gingerly grabbed the black metallic mask, its mechanical innards now coated in melting snow. Tossing it onto the body, she turned, stepping out into the street. A black towncar waited for her, the engine still running.

"Clean this up."

A similarly masked man pulled himself from the driver's side door, emerging from the alley a minute later with the body slung over his shoulders. The man dumped his burden into the open trunk, tossing in the mask before wrapping a tarp carefully around the body. He looked down for a moment at the corpse, their clothes identical but for the red-stained collar and the bloody hole in the left shoulder. Their hair was even cut the same way. Add a few inches in height, thicker bones, and a several pounds of muscle and they'd look almost the same.

Closing the trunk, the man moved to open the rear door, waiting for his mistress to slide gracefully into the back seat. His duty done, the man climbed behind the wheel, driving off slowly through the empty streets.

All that was left was a splash of red against the snow, slowly dissolving in a sea of white.


	14. Boiling Sunrise - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby deals with Weiss the morning after the attack on Blake, and gives Yang some much-needed advice.

_A nice twist on the Tequila Sunrise, pour orange juice, tequila and grenadine into a pint glass. Stir in beer. A nice, easy drink after knocking back something far heavier._

Ruby woke with the dawn, the thin ray of sun warming her cheek. Blinking sleep from her eyes, she rolled to her side, pulling the edge of the down-stuffed pillow over her face. She hissed as the movement pressed against her injured ribs, the cracked bones complaining about the rough treatment so early in the morning. Careful to use only her arms, Ruby pushed herself up off the bed. Looking down, she found Weiss slumped across the mattress, half-sitting in the chair placed by the bedside. Her lips fluttered as she breathed, one strap of the pale blue nightdress hanging loosely off her shoulder.

Ruby smiled as she stared at her sleeping guardian. Weiss had taken her injuries much worse than Ruby had, working herself into a frenzy over the cracked ribs. She'd insisted on guarding her unwilling patient through the night, convinced that Ruby would break something else if she left her side. Apparently, she had finally passed out, collapsed on the bed with one hand still holding onto Ruby's.

Ruby smiled, slowly disentangling their fingers. The sleeping girl huffed softly, her head rumpling the sheets as she shifted.

 _She really is cute when she sleeps_ , Ruby thought, reaching over to brush a stray lock of ivory hair back into place. Her hand lingered by Weiss' cheek, the skin delightfully warm to her touch. Unconsciously, Weiss nuzzled into Ruby's hand, lips brushing against her fingers.

"Ruby," she murmured, breath tickling Ruby's hand as she slept.

Ruby pulled her hand away, smile slowly fading.

 _If I lead her on and change my mind ..._ Ruby sighed, pushing the thoughts away. She _had_ been honest with Weiss about her feelings. This was what she wanted, even if she wasn't sure what kind of future they would have. Even if she didn't know anything about how this might end.

"Stop ... not there," Weiss murmured, brow furrowed in her sleep.

Ruby stared down at the unconscious girl, grinning at the thought that Weiss was dreaming of her.

 _This is nice,_ she realized, playing with the ends of Weiss' hair while the other girl slept beside her. Well, not _beside_ her, beside her but ... well, it was close enough. She liked having Weiss nearby, and it was nice having her back. The two had practically slept on top of each other back at Beacon, and Ruby couldn't count the times she'd fallen asleep listening to Weiss' quiet breaths ... and Yang's snores.

An idea came to her, and she smiled in spite of herself. It was really more something Yang would do – something more worthy of the constantly teasing, troublemaker older sister. Still ...

Ruby bit her cheek, tried to fight temptation, and failed. Leaning over, she slipped her hands down the back of Weiss' pale nightgown, slowly pulling each button from its hole until the cloth fell open. Running her fingers down the sleeping girl's bare back, Ruby tickled her spine, feeling Weiss squirm. Pushing the loosened straps a little lower down Weiss' arms, she bent closer, ignoring the stabs of pain from her traitorous ribs, and blew into her lover's ear.

"Whaa?" Weiss's head rose, her eyes still half-lidded from sleep.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Ruby beamed innocently, stroking her hand through the cascade of white hair.

"Uh huh." Weiss groggily pushed herself off the bed, groaning as her stiff back straightened. "Guess I fell asleep."

"Yup." Ruby crossed her fingers under the comforter, counting down in her head as the mischievous grin widened.

"What are you smiling about?"

_Three, Two, One._

"What did you do?" Weiss asked suspiciously, one hand rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Liftoff."

Weiss' movement was the final straw, jarring the thin silk enough to overcome the last dregs of inertia. The gown slipped down the arms of the drowsy girl, leaving her uncovered chest exposed. The pale breasts moved in time with her breathing, then heaved as the girl jerked back, arms flying up to cover her chest.

"RUBY!"

"Worth it!" Ruby managed to cry before Weiss brained her with a pillow.

* * *

Cereal crunched as Ruby bit down into her breakfast. The first one up, she'd decided trying to cook was just a way to get more injuries; a big bowl of cookie-themed cereal seemed less likely to cause explosions.

At least it had, before Weiss emerged fully-clothed from Ruby's room and promptly dumped her delicious milk-and-cookie goodness down the garbage disposal. Ignoring the younger girl's protests, Weiss slid a bowl of something tasteless and supposedly healthier across the table. Fixing her own breakfast, she sat, a blast shield of a newspaper snapping open as she studiously ignored the pouting girl sitting beside her.

Eventually Yang staggered out of her room, saw Blake coming out of the guest bedroom, and silently headed for the kitchen. The other girls joined them, each wordlessly grabbing food before sitting down on opposite sides of the table.

Demolishing the tasteless bran clumps with as much vindictiveness as she could muster, Ruby looked around at her teammates. Blake and Yang weren't talking. In fact, they were _not_ talking as loudly as they possibly could. Ruby tried to catch Weiss' eye, desperate for someone, anyone, to break the silence. Weiss pointedly turned a page of her newspaper, apparently still annoyed with Ruby for the stunt she'd pulled.

"So ... how's breakfast?" she asked, her voice wavering.

Yang didn't even look up from her food, still mechanically emptying her bowl by the spoonful. Blake actually showed some signs of life, glancing up briefly. Dark circles lined her half-lidded eyes, narrowing as she did a double take, staring at Ruby.

"Why is there a feather in your hair?"

Weiss went beet red behind the newspaper, still trying to feign interest in the morning's stock report.

"I keep a stuffed Nevermore over my bed," Ruby lied. She was too frustrated to come up with anything believable. "Keeps away bad dreams."

Blake nodded skeptically as Weiss slumped a little lower behind the business page. Yang had apparently gone deaf, the rhythmic chewing looking more and more automatic. Glancing over, Ruby caught Blake's eyes and cocked her head at her sister, brows furrowed.

The Faunus girl ignored the silent question and went back to her toast. The room sent silent again, the only noise the crunching of food and the turning of Weiss' newspaper.

"It's also where I keep my sex toys."

Weiss nearly did a spit take, going into a coughing fit after something went the wrong way down her throat. Blake dutifully patted her on the back, looking at Ruby incredulously. Yang simply kept eating.

"Sometimes I take out a bat and use it as a perverted piñata."

Still nothing from her sister. Ruby ignored the heiress' spluttering as she checked the time, declaring Yang officially dead to the world. It was time to bring out the big guns.

"When it breaks, I grab the first thing that falls and just go to tow..."

Blake stood, the chair scratching against the linoleum, cutting Ruby off before she could go into greater detail.

"Excuse me," she said, and stalked back into the guest room, letting the door shut a little too loudly behind her.

Then Yang finally moved, her head coming up to stare at Blake's retreating back.

Pressing what advantage she had, Ruby scooped a handful of bran chunks from the box and chucked them across the table. They rained down on Yang, a few catching in her unkempt mass of hair. One lucky shot smacked her in the forehead.

Shaking cereal from her tangles, the blonde turned to Ruby, her mournful expression a far cry from her regular antics.

"What happened?" Ruby asked. "You were practically giddy before your date."

Weiss' head popped out of the newspaper like a mechanical mole.

"What date?"

Ruby kicked her foot lightly, not wanting to take her eyes off her sister. The last thing she needed right now was a distraction.

"What happened?" she repeated, more than happy to wait Yang out.

Yang said nothing, and Ruby's hand inched towards the cereal box, ready for another volley.

"She thinks Adam's alive," Yang said softly, before taking another bite.

Ruby's gut churned, that name ruining her appetite. Focusing on Yang, she forced the reaction aside. Now wasn't the time to deal with whatever lingering anger and guilt she had over that particular death. She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder and turned to find Weiss watching her, eyes filled with concern. She smiled, covering Weiss' hand with her own before looking back to Yang.

"So ... how did you go from 'dead man walking' to 'not speaking to each other?'"

"She thinks he sent the guy you shot."

Ruby nodded, waiting for Yang to finish explaining. She didn't.

"And you're not talking because ..."

Yang looked up, letting her spoon clang off the bowl. "Because she thought she saw him two days ago!"

Ruby forced her fist to unclench. _Not now_. "That's why she's so tired. Adam coming back ... she must be worried sick."

"Then why wouldn't she tell _me_?"

 _Ah._ Ruby sighed. It was nice to know the reason Blake and Yang could barely look at each other, and just a little pathetic that it had taken her this long to figure it out.

"It's Blake." Ruby said, shrugging. "I mean, I love her like a sister, but it's pretty normal for her to hide stuff."

"We've been her team for years. We've saved each other dozens of times. And if there's even a chance that fucker's back," Yang snapped, slamming her hand on the table. "I have a goddamn right to know!"

Ruby sighed and leaned against the table. "Yang, if I saw Adam up and walking around, I wouldn't rush over to tell you either. I'd think I was losing my mind." She paused, waiting for her words to sink in. "Plus, she knows better than anyone what you had to ... I mean, if she told you, it's 'cause she trusted you to help, not treat her like a basket case."

Yang opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, slumping even lower as she looked back down at her food.

Lobbing bran flakes with increasing accuracy, Ruby pulled Yang's attention back to her. She wasn't about to let her big sister wallow in self-pity. "Is that it?"

"Not ... exactly."

Ruby rolled her eyes, and reached across the table to flick her sister's forehead. "Sis, don't be Weiss."

"Hey!" Weiss' objected, hand popping out from under Ruby's, going quiet when Ruby kicked her lightly again.

She turned back to her sister, "Right now, what do you want?"

Yang blinked, a beat passing before her eyes refocused.

"How did you get good at this?"

Ruby leaned back, trademark smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. "I'm not team leader just 'cause of my looks. And I learned it from you."

Yang snorted lightly, patting her little sister on the head. Without a word, she marched off towards the guest bedroom, her jaw set, spine ramrod-straight.

"You think that helped?" Weiss said out the side of her mouth as they watched Yang leave.

"Maaaaybe?"

Weiss gave her a scathing look then shook her head. "And if Adam is alive?"

Ruby's teeth ground in time with her twisting stomach. "I'll find a deeper hole to bury him in."

A hand squeezed hers, and she looked over to find Weiss smiling sadly at her. She smiled back, appreciating the silent comfort.

The older girl cleared her throat, then glared almost convincingly over at Ruby. "You should know, I am going to get you back for this morning."

"... maybe I can make it up to you," the brunette murmured, sliding across her chair to put one hand on Weiss' lap. The other flowed up Weiss' side, tracing the outlines of her curves before coming up to cup her face.

"Ruby! You'll hurt your ribs!"

Ruby's reply was to shift closer, fingers splaying through ivory hair as she cuddled up against the heiress.

"Weiss, I kinda want to kiss you. You okay with that?"

Ice-blue eyes widened as Weiss looked at her. Ruby waited as Weiss swallowed, her gaze flicked between Ruby's face and her lips. Then, finally, after what seemed like forever, she reached out, took a swig of her coffee, and nodded. "Just don't hurt yourself."

Ruby reached out and gently pulled Weiss to her, humoring the heiress and letting her do all the work. Weiss' lips met hers, and Ruby slid her hands up into the cascade of snow-white hair.

 _She tastes like coffee,_ Ruby grinned, lips breaking into a smile as she came away. Weiss met her eyes and scowled, her cheeks red.

"Do you wanna do that again?" Ruby asked, one finger tracing lazily over Weiss' collarbone.

Weiss' jaw clenched, and she swallowed, looking like she could barely keep herself from doing exactly that. "Yang could come back ..."

Ruby nodded and took Weiss' hand in hers. She stood, leaving breakfast behind and moving towards her bedroom door, pulling Weiss along behind her. The door clicked shut, and Ruby pulled Weiss down to sit on the end of the bed, their knees touched as Ruby leaned in again.

"Ruby-" Weiss started when they came apart.

"Weiss ... we might have lost Blake last night," the younger woman cut her off. "I mean, she probably would have been fine, she can take care of herself. But ... look, our lives aren't the safest things in the world, and I don't want something to happen to either of us before we ..." she trailed off, looking down at their hands. "I want this. I _really_ want this. If you do too, then-"

"You'll hurt your ribs." Weiss gave another look at the bandages peeking out from beneath Ruby's pajamas.

"My aura's already started healing them. Plus, deep heavy breathing is important with rib injuries. You don't want me catching pneumonia, right?" Ruby stared at her with the biggest puppy eyes she could muster.

Weiss' glower wavered, growing even less convincing as her lover reached up to stroke her back, ignoring the needles of pain in her side.

"I doubt your doctor recommended sex as a way to prevent pneumonia."

Ruby leaned in, her lips scant millimeters from Weiss' ear. Slowly, softly, she whispered the heiress' name, each syllable filled with need and desire. Kissing the side of her neck, Ruby called Weiss' name again, still soft and gentle. She worked her way around her lover's face until their foreheads pressed together, their lips dangerously close, wide puppy eyes still begging for attention.

"How 'bout now?"

Ruby watched as Weiss desperately tried to maintain her scowl, forehead twitching as blood rushed to her cheeks.

"... Fine."

Mischievous silver eyes glinted as Ruby pressed into her girlfriend, their kiss fueled with the passion of survival. Weiss broke the kiss as soon as her back hit the bed, catching herself before the girl tugging at her jacket could topple them. Sitting down, Weiss scooted back along the mattress. Seeing the opportunity, Ruby took the chance to pull the heiress' underwear down her legs.

Ruby grabbed Weiss' hips, and pulled the older girl towards her. Weiss yelped in surprise, legs kicking slightly at her lover's grin. Reaching under her skirt, Ruby lifted one pale leg until it rested over her shoulder, leaving Weiss' core exposed and glistening. Shifting to keep the weight off her ribs, Ruby looked up at her partner's blushing face.

Seeing Weiss nod, she lowered her mouth to the heiress' pussy, tongue twisting in tight circles. She went slowly, maintaining a gentle pace until the older girl moaned quietly, her hands bunching the sheets. Placing one hand on the girl's abdomen, she gently lapped at the cute little clit. Hips bucked underneath her, and Ruby continued the light, soft licks, applying pressure only occasionally, changing the sensations to keep Weiss squirming. When the little nub was good and flushed, Ruby slid her hands up to the top of Weiss' sex. Gently, she pulled, the folds slowly drawing away, leaving part of the clitoris exposed. As delicately as she could, she ran the tip of her tongue gently up the exposed flesh, making Weiss gasp as she writhed.

"You okay?" she asked, glancing up at Weiss.

"Dammit Ruby, if you stop, I will break your other ribs."

Grinning, she moved back between the heiress' legs. She was careful not to overstimulate the delicate nerves, running her soft little tongue around the extremely sensitive nub. A hand twined into her hair, and Ruby looked up to find Weiss biting her lips to hold back her moans.

When Weiss started twisting the bedsheets in her hands, Ruby released her hands, upping the pressure while fingers stoked Weiss' lips. Finally, her lover came, calling Ruby's name as she climaxed.

Crawling back up the bed, Ruby wiped her mouth and lay herself down next to the gasping girl, kissing Weiss to remind her she was there. Those ice-blue eyes were still clenched, a few tears on her cheeks from the sheer buildup and release.

Ignoring the pain in her side, Ruby leaned in, kissing the tears away while Weiss panted beneath her. She cuddled closer, lying on her uninjured side as she spooned against her partner, grinding her own pussy along Weiss' shapely leg. Slowly, the other girl eased into her, finally letting her snow-white head lean against Ruby's red highlights.

Lips pressed against Ruby's forehead, and she looked up to find Weiss staring down at her.

"Th ... thanks," the older girl said, almost begrudgingly. Her face was flushed, from exertion or embarrassment, Ruby wasn't sure. Either way, it was definitely, uniquely, adorably Weiss.

"Anytime." Ruby smiled, resting her chin against Weiss' shoulder.

"I just wish," Weiss panted, "That this had been our first time."

"That's what I'm saying it was," Ruby breathed heavily, her hands sliding up Weiss' spine. " _Our_ first time. Just you and me, no complications."

Weiss pushed herself off the bed, twisting to land above the brunette, her body looming over the younger girl. Her face was still red, but her jaw was set and a determined glint sat in her eyes.

"My turn," she growled, and leaned in to kiss Ruby's neck.

* * *

A soft knock pulled Blake from her suitcase, her belongings almost completely re-packed. She ignored it, shoving her pajamas into the black canvas.

The knock came again, tentative and quiet.

"Can I come in?" Yang asked through the door.

Blake sighed, blowing a few stray hairs off her face.

"It's your apartment."

Yang stepped into the room, her blond mane flowing behind her. Blake kept her gaze locked on her clothes, not wanting to see the look in those eyes from the night before.

"You're leaving," Yang said. It was a statement, not a question, and Blake wasn't sure what she heard in that voice.

Blake sighed and pulled out one of her shirts. The damn thing just wouldn't fold right. "I can't stay here, Yang. I can't ask you or Ruby to put yourselves in danger because of me. Again."

Without warning, Yang wrapped her arms around Blake, pulling the dark-haired girl tight to her chest.

"You've _never_ had to ask," the blonde growled, squeezing Blake a little tighter.

She hesitated for a moment, and then Blake let the shirt fall from her fingers. Wrapping her own arms around Yang, she returned the embrace, chin buried in the hollow of Yang's neck.

"You're late," she mumbled into the blonde's collarbone, the tension that had kept her up most of the night finally fading away in the bone-crushing bear hug.

"Sorry." Yang held her tighter, and Blake couldn't bring herself to mind. "... I need to know why you didn't tell me."

Blake nodded into Yang's shoulder, pushing on her toes to put her chin next to the blonde's ear.

"I didn't tell you because I thought I was losing my mind," her voice caught, and she cleared her throat, needing to make it through this. "And because I'd never forgive myself if you got hurt again because of me."

"... and asking me to stay?"

"Because I needed someone I trusted completely," her voice caught, and she cleared her throat. She _had_ to make it through this. "And because I'd wanted to tear your clothes off since our dinner date."

Yang's only response was to squeeze her tighter, those powerful arms pulling them even closer together. Blake leaned into the hug, her weight resting on that powerful frame as the heat of the blonde's body spread through her.

"I ... I'm sorry, Yang."

"It's ..." Yang trailed off. "I was gonna say it's okay, but," she stopped again, then pulled back just enough to look down at Blake. "Look, your first instinct when something bad happens is to deal with it yourself. And that's fine, you know, self-sufficient and everything. But you have a _team_. You have me. Running away to keep us safe didn't work after the attack on Beacon, and you sure as hell better know it's not gonna work now."

She sighed, and Blake felt Yang's right arm tense against her back. "And if you really think Adam's back, I think I have the right to know."

"That's ..." Blake said, fumbling for the right thing to say. Adam was ... he was _her_ problem. _Her_ personal demon, _her_ fight. With the White Fang's attacks and Cinder's conspiracy, the others had gotten dragged into it, but it was something that never should have happened. _And there's still no way I'm letting you get hurt because of me,_ she thought, wincing at the memory of Yang, bloody and unconscious on the ground. _But that's not what she needs to hear._

She swallowed and nodded. "You're right."

"Okay," Yang mumbled into her hair, the pressure not letting up in the slightest. "You still want to leave?"

"It's not safe. I need somewhere that can't be traced to me, where I can figure this ..." Blake paused, searching for some word to describe the shit-storm of the past couple days "... _this_ out."

"It'll need more than one bed."

Blake pulled back just enough to look Yang in the face – a challenge, as her girlfriend refused to loosen the vice that clamped them together.

"You're coming?"

"Oh I'm not leaving your side until this is over. Ruby and Weiss'll probably be a bit uncomfortable in the same bed with us," Yang waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "You know, with the moaning and all."

Blake couldn't help but laugh, at the truly awful joke. Her idiot grinned, and one muscled arm freed itself to scoop up under Blake's knees, lifting her into the air.

Yang carried her to the bed, resting the Faunus on the mattress before sliding atop the sheets to join her. There they lay, Blake cuddled into her girlfriend's side, muscled arms wrapped around her shoulders. Squirming into a better position, she buried herself against the expanse of Yang's chest, soft curves pressing against her face.

"You really like my boobs, don't you?" Yang quipped, her chest rising and falling as she spoke.

Blake huffed and snuggled closer. "Like you don't enjoy playing with my ears."

"It wasn't a complaint," her girlfriend grinned cockily, one hand stroking the feline tufts.

A soft rumbling started in Blake's chest. One hand came up to knead Yang's back, her nails just pricking the skin. Yang kept up the gentle petting, fingers worrying at the base of the black, furry ears until gold eyes finally fell shut and she drifted into dreamless sleep.

* * *

Yang lay the exhausted girl against the pillow and pulled the bedsheets over her. She moved to leave, then leaned in, pressing her lips to Blake's forehead. Going as quietly as possible, Yang slipped out of the room, the mechanism clicking softly as the door inched shut.

Tiptoeing further from her sleeping girlfriend, she stepped into the abandoned living room. Violet eyes swept left and right. Ruby and Weiss were nowhere to be seen – the remains of breakfast still sitting on the kitchen table.

Grabbing the bowls and plates, Yang cleaned up, loading the dishwasher and scraping the last bit of toast into the garbage. Once everything was back to normal, she looked around, and laid her head against the wall.

It was just going to take time. She'd known it would – Blake was one of the more guarded people she knew, and it took a _lot_ to get that girl to open up.

Lost in thought, she almost missed the sound of metal creaking. Looking up, she stared about the room and listened, wondering if she'd just imagined it. Then it came again, and Yang stepped out of the kitchen corner, moving into the living room.

It was clearer here – something almost rhythmic, creaking metal and ...

And it was coming from Ruby's room.

 _No_ , she thought, shaking her head in disbelief. _They couldn't have ..._

She grinned, knuckles cracking as she approached the opposite room. Putting her ear against the door, she listened, the telltale moans vibrating through the wood. Grinning like a madman, she waited until the sounds reached a fever pitch before swinging it open.

"You guys done yet?"

She closed the door just in time to muffle Weiss' shriek as the naked girl dived beneath the covers.


	15. Aftermath - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! Team RWBY decides on their next move. Features a little bit of planning, WhiteRose and Bumbleby fluff.

_12 year-old scotch, applejack, Benedictine, a little Fernet Branca, and a bit of allspice, water, and bitters. Supposedly the remainder of a fight in Toronto between a Lion's Tail and a Junior._

It was well past noon when Blake finally crawled out from beneath the covers, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Reaching over, she tried to wrap her arms around her girlfriend. She wanted to feel the other woman's warmth, to take comfort that Yang was still there.

She wasn't. Blake blinked and rose with a sigh, mildly disappointed that the blonde wasn't still in bed with her. Ignoring her rumpled clothes, she stumbled out into the main room of the sisters' apartment, still slightly clumsy so soon out of bed. The apartment was locked tight against the cold and the outside world, heavy curtains covering all the windows. Which was for the best, really. After last night, she could use a little distance.

The other three girls were already sitting at the table, Ruby tinkering with something while Weiss shot daggers across the room at Yang. The taller girl didn't seem to notice, happily punching away on her scroll, likely in the middle of one of those browser games she used to stave off boredom. Probably _Angry Ursas_. At least Yang looked happier than she had that morning.

If she was being honest, Adam and the attempt on her life was only part of the reason she'd had trouble sleeping. The idea that Yang was angry with her ... it hadn't been something she could brush off easily.

_I'm really in trouble, aren't I?_

The blonde head popped up as soon as Blake stepped into the room, lips curving in a smile as lilac eyes met her partner's. The Faunus swallowed, and made sure to smile back. _Yup_ , _definitely in trouble._

"Heya sleepyhead," Yang called, shutting off her scroll. Blake took the chair closest to the blonde, hesitated for a moment, and then twined her fingers with Yang's under the table. Her girlfriend – just the thought was enough to make her smile _–_ beamed, squeezing Blake's fingers before looking back at their teammates.

"One question," Weiss broke her death glare at Yang, shutting off the lasers before facing Blake. "Why are _we_ the ones who always have to deal with criminal conspiracies determined to kill everyone we love or destroy society as we know it?"

"Because we're awesome," Yang said without hesitation.

With a sigh, Weiss brought one knuckle to her temple, trying to rub the stress away. "I could do with being a little less 'awesome,' and a bit more normal. Specifically the not-being-shot-at part."

Yang snorted and cracked her neck. "So," she asked, not bothering to find some excuse to get them back on track. "What's the plan?"

Blake couldn't help but smile. That was her partner, always pushing for action, not bothering to make Blake explain herself or ask for help. She was just _there_ , ready and willing.

"I need to know who's behind this. We're missing something. Adam, the men who broke into my place – you were right, Yang. Nothing from the last couple days adds up."

Weiss shook her head. "What we need to do is get you out of sight. We can worry about who's after you once you're safe."

"We could Tarzan it," Ruby piped up helpfully. "Hide out in the wilderness, live off the land."

The heiress shot another withering glare at her partner. "If you think I'm going to hide in the woods for months, you are sadly mistaken."

Blake had to agree. Weiss and wilderness did not mix well. It didn't help that Ruby's definition of 'living off the land' meant day after day of boar meat and whatever berries she could scrounge.

"There's always Haven," Ruby chirped. I'm sure Sun would be happy to-"

"No," Blake cut Ruby off, her grip on Yang's hand tightening.

"Blake, I know you're still angry, but you know he'd jump at the chance to make it up to you."

The Faunus took a breath, relaxing her hand before she could crush Yang's fingers, and looked straight into her captain's eyes. "I'm not angry, Ruby. But I can't trust him."

Grey broke before gold, blinking and looking away. Blake frowned, her stomach twisting. She hadn't wanted to shoot Ruby down, but she wasn't anywhere near being comfortable putting her life, _any_ of their lives, in Sun's hands. Not again.

"So," Yang piped up, reading the situation and deciding it was time for a change, "Not Haven, then."

"How about Mistral?" There was their fearless leader, always trying to be helpful, even if her foot lodged in her mouth sometimes.

"Still doesn't give really us access to any leads." Yang helpfully shot that suggestion down as well.

"What leads? Apart from the blood sample Blake picked up, all we have is a fake detective, an anonymous hitman, and a walking corpse," Weiss snipped, "The first two they haven't found, and the last no one is going to believe."

"There's the warehouse where I saw Adam," Blake said softly. "It's possible he left something behind."

The room got a little quieter at that, the other three glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes. Blake knew Adam was back. It had to be him. It could _only_ be him, but the others clearly didn't want to accept it. Not that she blamed them.

Finally, Yang broke the silence. "Well, we have somewhere to look, but we still don't have a place to hide."

Weiss quietly cleared her throat, waiting until everyone turned before she spoke. "There's always my place."

"Several blocks across the city won't make much difference. If they could find where I live, it would be an easy matter to find you too."

"I didn't mean my apartment," the heiress said, her voice completely flat.

There was another round of silence, this one somehow more painful than the last. Weiss rose from the table, and busied herself with the teapot. Now it was Blake's turn to shoot worried glances at the other two, all of them wondering how exactly to respond.

Weiss rarely talked about her family's home. Or her family. Thinking back, Blake couldn't remember her speaking warmly about any family other than her sister. For the only one of them who hadn't lost a good chunk of her immediate family, she was particularly quiet about them.

It was obvious how touchy the subject was to her, and the other three knew better than to bring it up. After all, everyone on the team had something they didn't like to talk about. Summer, Raven, the Fang, Weiss' family ... over the years, they'd more or less made an unspoken rule: unless the person brought it up, you didn't mention it.

Instead, they'd found ways around the old wounds. Ruby was the best at it, with Yang a close second, finding the holes in their teammate's lives and doing everything they could to fill them. Once the sisters realized Weiss had no desire to go back home, and Blake had no home to go back to, they'd made it a point to drag their teammates back to Patch whenever they got the chance. Long weekends and holidays were announced by the sisters badgering Blake into coming home with them. Ruby would open with her puppy eyes, weakening the Faunus girl's resolve enough for Yang to make the finishing blow, revealing their friend's bags already packed and waiting, the tickets bought and paid for. They knew Blake didn't want to intrude, but the idea of their friend alone in the dorms during a vacation was unacceptable.

For Weiss, they had always been more delicate. Excuses were suggested, ways to get out of family functions, mostly-true reasons why heading back to the Schnee estate might just not be possible this year. _Then_ Ruby would fire off her puppy eyes.

Blake smiled. For all Weiss complained and refused, one forlorn glance from Ruby was usually enough to break the heiress' resolve. It worked more often than not, and although the heiress would never admit it, Blake knew Weiss appreciated the sisters' concern as much as she did. Holidays at the Rose household had been incredible – they were among the few times she ever felt like she truly had a family. Despite Weiss' dislike for their uncle, Taiyang had gone above and beyond to make the two outsiders feel welcome, and some of the best memories Blake had in the past couple years were of relaxing at their woodland home, surrounded by the trees.

But when it came to the Schnees ...  _well, it's a line none of us want to cross._ None of the girls had ever seen the Schnee compound, or ever really wanted to. That Weiss was willing to even mention it ... _maybe I'm not the only one worried about Adam coming back from the dead._

The heiress returned to the table, placing one cup of tea in front of Blake and sipping from the other. Setting her cup on the saucer with a soft clink, she cleared her throat, pointedly ignoring the silence she'd left behind her.

"I'm not sure that's such a great idea," Ruby murmured, her hand reaching for her partner's. Weiss shrugged her off, leaning into the table to look at Blake.

"The only thing we know is that someone wants you. Not who targeted you, no real idea why. So, we might as well give them what they want."

"... you want to use me as bait."

"I'm saying we set a trap." Weiss corrected, neatly sidestepping _who_ they would bait their trap with. "Whoever's after you should assume we're hiding behind Schnee security, and in case something does go wrong, we won't be endangering anyone or anything we care about."

The rest of the team looked at each other. Ruby bit her lip and looked over at the heiress. "That's a little ..."

"Cold," Yang finished, ever the tactful one.

Weiss sipped her tea, then met Blake's eyes. "I'm not _hoping_ for collateral damage. But I'd rather it happen to my father's home than in the middle of the city."

The Faunus bit the inside of her cheek, trying to find some other plan that didn't force Weiss back to her ancestral home. She came up blank. Weiss was right – if the team just ran, it would mean putting their friends at risk, especially if whoever was hunting her tried to lure the team back into the open.

"Okay," Blake nodded. Yang squeezed her hand, and Blake looked over to find her girlfriend smiling, trying to be silently supportive.

"Guess I should go pack." Squeezing Blake's shoulder as she left, Yang whispered into her ear. "I'll make sure to bring something sexy."

Blake rolled her eyes, but couldn't completely keep the smile from her lips as Yang slipped off into her room. Ruby followed soon after, shooting one more worried look at Weiss before leaving the two alone.

The heiress was quiet, staring into her tea, her spoon stirring listlessly. Blake let the silence hang between them, not sure how to thank someone for going back into hell for her sake. Eventually, the heiress broke the quiet with a yawn, trying to hide it behind her hand.

Blake cocked her head, brow furrowed as she gave her teammate another once-over. She'd assumed Weiss had just arrived before she'd dragged herself out of bed, but Weiss was wearing the same clothes from the day before. The combat skirt and her jacket weren't pressed, the creases too soft to satisfy the heiress' usual sense of propriety.

 _She slept here last night._ Blake smiled. For all the heiress' hard edges, she was a good friend to have.

"I appreciate the gesture," the Faunus drawled, sipping her tea. "But you didn't have to stay over to protect me."

She could barely believe her eyes when Weiss turned a brilliant red.

"Why does it have to be about you?" the heiress said, raising her own cup to cover her blush.

 _Then why ..._ It clicked. The moment between the two partners the night before, Weiss panicked over Ruby's injury, the quiet whispering into the harpy's ear. The way Ruby had calmed her down.

"So," Blake smiled, watching for Weiss' reaction. "You and Ruby are-"

"Yes." Weiss cut her off, her face beet-red.

"Does Yang know?"

Blake made a note to call a coloring company. She wanted to get the naming rights to the new shade of pink Weiss was developing. _Think I'll call it Tsun-tsun Pink._

"Apparently."

"Ah."

"Seriously?" Weiss snapped, putting down the cup with a little too much force. "No surprise? No comment about how partners shouldn't date?"

"... it'd be a little silly coming from me."

Weiss blinked, then looked over at Blake. Her brow furrowed in confusion, her expression demanding explanation. Sighing, Blake supposed she deserved one. _She'll find out soon enough anyway. Yang can't keep a secret from Ruby for long._

"Yang and I started seeing each other."

Weiss slammed her hand down on the table, the porcelain cup clatterin painfully against its saucer, glaring in exasperation at her teammate.

"Dammit, Belladonna. Now I owe Ren fifty lien."

Blake's jaw worked for a moment, disbelief blocking any level of understandable speech. "You had a bet on us?"

"Nora started a pool our sophomore year." Weiss waved her off, arms crossing over her chest as she huffed. "Never mind that, would it have killed you to find the courage a year ago?"

"... who was in on this?"

"Most of our friends – except Ruby. She can't keep a secret to save her life. Sun never placed a bet, but it's hardly surprising, considering how _that_ ended."

Blake decided to ignore the crack about Sun. Weiss didn't mean anything by it, and she was right. It _had_ ended badly. "Did _everyone_ assume we'd start dating?"

"Coco put a hundred on the two of you never admitting your feelings to each other."

 _Figures._ She really hoped the bets had stopped with whether or not they would date. Knowing Nora, she doubted it. _Change the topic._

"I have a hard time seeing you as the betting type."

"Gambling is a valued tradition among the aristocracy." Weiss feigned arrogance, flicking her side-tail back over her shoulder. "Plus, it's far more fun to bet on your friends' love lives than on horse races."

"Hey, Weiss?" Ruby called from her open door. "Could you come in here a second? There's something I want to show you."

Gold eyes met blue as the two woman shared a look.

"We're screwed, aren't we?" Blake said quietly, glancing over at Ruby's door.

"You have no idea." Weiss rose to leave, twirling on one foot so she could look back at Blake. "If I can ask, who asked whom out first?"

"It was-" _... seriously? Dammit, Nora._ "Weiss, our relationship is not a betting pool."

"You're several years too late to make that claim," Weiss called back as she stalked out of the room.

Blake humphed for a second, making a mental note to hunt down the pink-clad huntress and find out exactly how ... 'specific' some of these bets were.

 _Well, no point worrying about it now_ , she sighed, finishing her tea. Letting the annoyance fade, she slowly started to realize something: everything was quiet. Yang was packing, she hoped, and Ruby and Weiss had secluded themselves in their leader's room.

It was finally quiet. She had some time alone.

Blake leaned back, enjoying the moment's peace. After years with her team, she'd learned to value quiet when she found it. Those moments were rare, what with Ruby's tinkering, Weiss' bickering, the occasional explosion, and the thuds of Yang punching the wall whenever she found a split end in the shower. As much as she loved them, actual peace and quiet was hard to come by with her teammates. Grabbing a paperback at random off the counter, she smiled, thumbed to the first chapter and began to read.

Or she tried. She made it through the first few pages before letting the book flop down onto the table, glaring down at the bent paperback. She couldn't focus. The silence was too quiet, too heavy on her ears. Even the hum of the refrigerator and the quiet whirring of the heater weren't enough to fill the space left by the other three's absence.

She was alone. Not that she wasn't used to it. She _liked_ having moments to herself, using books to fill the empty time. It had been difficult finding anything worth reading outside the kingdoms, and she'd always made a point to get as many as she could when the Fang went on one of their raids. She'd left money for the books, of course. Books weren't Dust, weren't made by forcing her people into increasingly dangerous jobs with little hope of living past fifty. Not the good ones, anyway.

Even then she'd made do with what she could find, reading and re-reading her collection again and again and again. It helped. She'd been alone a lot. She was used to it. She _liked_ it.

 _Still ..._ she thought, closing her eyes and listening to the quiet murmur of conversation coming from beneath Ruby's door.

_... right now, I don't want to be alone._

* * *

"Are you _sure_ this is okay?"

Weiss sighed. Of all the things Ruby could have wanted, the younger woman had called her in for _this._ The sympathy was nice, but ... Well, it was the last thing she needed right then. What she _needed_ was to just be done with this, to have everything just go back to normal.

"It's fine, Ruby. My family's estate is the most secure place we know, with a massive security force. It's the best plan."

"Yeah, but I'm not asking if it's a good plan." The younger girl stepped in front of Weiss, slouching just enough to be able to stare her in the face. "Weiss, you _never_ talk about your family. Other than Winter, I've never met anyone you're related to, and now you're taking us home. Taking _me_ home."

"It's fine."

"Are you sure? We can find some other way to help Blake."

"It's fine, Ruby!" Weiss snapped, and regretted it immediately.

Ruby pulled away, turning back to her half-packed suitcase. "Okay. I'm ... I'm sorry."

 _Dammit_. _I should be getting better at this._

Clenching her teeth until her anger faded, Weiss sat on the foot of the bed, reaching out to lay her hand atop Ruby's. The other girl stopped, still holding a pair of brightly colored socks, covered in cartoon characters.

"No, Ruby. I'm sorry," she let out her breath in one long gust, fighting every instinct that told her to just let leave this alone. "I'm not ... happy about this, but I will be fine. Eventually."

Ruby put down the socks. She didn't move, didn't even turn to face Weiss. She just sat there, staring into the depths of her suitcase. "I don't want to put you through this if we don't have to."

"It was _my_ idea. I wouldn't have suggested it if I thought I couldn't handle it." Weiss squeezed her hand gently. "This is our best option. You don't need to worry about me."

"Someone has to," Ruby turned around then, her eyes flicking up to the scar that ran across Weiss' left eye.

Weiss looked away. She didn't want to see the look that always came when anyone looked at the mark. Pity, usually. Or curiosity. Or from the more moronic people she'd met, some comment about how 'tragic' it was that it marred her 'perfect' features. Apparently they thought it made for a good pick-up line.

She didn't want to see that from Ruby. She knew most of them didn't mean any harm, but she didn't want to hear it. Not from Ruby. She wasn't sure she could handle it coming from Ruby.

A hand touched her face, careful to avoid the scar tissue. Ruby leaned in and kissed her, so gentle, innocent, and sweet that Weiss almost flinched.

" _I_ have to. 'Cause we both know you don't really take care of yourself."

* * *

Yang was sitting on her bed when Blake came in, tossing clothes haphazardly into her suitcase. A toothbrush poked out from one of her shirts, her other toiletries scattered among her shirts and jeans. It was jumbled, and chaotic, and messy.

And somehow, she managed to make it seem cute.

Ignoring the shorts the blonde was folding, Blake climbed onto the mattress and laid down, resting her head on Yang's lap as she flipped open her book. Her girlfriend froze for a second, and without even looking, Blake could guess the look on her face. Flexing her shoulders, Blake smiled slightly, listening as Yang lobbed the bundle of cloth into the open suitcase, glad she could still surprise the blonde when she needed to.

Blake shifted into a better position and flicked to the next page, waiting for Yang to take the hint. When nothing happened after a minute, Blake looked up. Yang looked back at her, her head angled to the side, an amused expression on her face.

Sighing, Blake cocked one dark brow, looking as impatient as she could manage. _Well?_

The blonde blinked, then grinned as what Blake wanted finally dawned on her. "Oh, right. My bad."

Blake rolled back and returned to her book as Yang's hand settled in her hair, eyes growing heavy as Yang scratched at her ears. Letting out a sigh that sounded very much like a purr, she stretched her legs and turned the page. Yang was getting good at this. Petting right at the base, her nails reached that spot Blake liked, the one that always made her eyes drift shut. The purring increased in volume as Yang added a second hand, massaging and scratching while Blake rumbled like a locomotive.

She rolled onto her side, her head facing in towards Yang. Her arms came up, wrapping around Yang's torso, her body vibrating into the blonde's stomach as she purred.

"You know, normally you'd never let anyone see you this vulnerable."

Blake turned her head to stare up at Yang. "You're not 'anyone,' Yang." She swallowed, took a breath, and forced herself to meet Yang's eyes.

"I know that I'm ... I have a lot of walls. And I tend to shut people out."

"Really?" Yang drawled, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Hadn't even noticed."

Blake's eyes narrowed for a moment. Then she sighed, and sat up just enough to pull herself off Yang's lap. _I suppose I deserved that._

"Yang, I'm trying to say that ... that I'm _trying_ to not be like that with you." This was already difficult enough without Yang making jokes ... even if she did kinda have them coming. "I _do_ trust you. More than anyone. It ... I ..."

"It just might take some time," Yang finished, lilac eyes twinkling. "I get it, and 'trying' is all I'm asking for. One step at a time, 'kay?"

"... thanks," Blake nodded. Then Yang's fingers went to her ears and she nuzzled back into the blonde's stomach, pressing into her girlfriend's warmth.

"Don't worry." A hand lowered, gently sweeping the hair out of her face. "You can relax. I've got you."

Blake took a breath, and let her eyes slide shut.

"I know."

* * *

 "I don't like this plan," the redheaded Faunus growled, one arm resting on the hilt of his sword. "Too many variables. Too likely that she won't jump the way you want her to."

"Have you ever gone on a shoot?" The woman in grey looked down at her nails, rather than the man sitting across from her. Her knuckle dusters laid on the table beside her, glinting in the dim light. Behind them stood her servant, making the necessary show of force, glowering mournfully over his black breathing mask. A disturbingly large rifle hung from his shoulder, painted the same gunmetal gray as his suit.

"No? Not surprising. Bird shoots themselves aren't particularly interesting. Poorly-paid workers – 'beaters,' they call them – head into the bushes and scare birds for overfed aristocrats to take potshots at." She sighed, flicking on of her weapons open before sliding rounds into the chamber. "It's _disgustingly_ tame. The only hard part is that sometimes the birds don't break the direction you want them to."

"Your average pheasant also doesn't normally carry a ballistic chain scythe." The woman didn't even spare a glance for the brown-haired man sitting in the corner. A hand ran lazily through his tousled mess, flicking a few locks out of his eyes. "Would be one badass bird, though."

The woman smiled, the twitch of her lips dropping the temperature of the room. The interruption threw up his hands in defeat, slumping back into his corner. Satisfied, her cold brown eyes flicked back to the redheaded Faunus. "If she breaks in the wrong direction, we just make enough noise to get her back on track. It's not a hard concept: keep putting barriers in someone's way and eventually they will go where you need them to. Do it correctly, and she won't even realize you made the choice for her."

Only then did the woman in grey turn to the scruffy man in the corner.

"That said, I have another task for you, Robert."

The messy brown head bobbed from side to side, his neck cracking as brushed a speck of dust off his black waistcoat. The top two buttons of his green shirt were left unbuttoned, his unshaven chin sharp against the pressed jade cotton. Twin holsters sat strapped to each thigh, black leather straps binding them over the black pants of his suit.

"I assume you've wired my money."

"I keep my word," she growled. "Half now, half on completion."

"Cool." He gave a little mocking bow, smirking as the black-masked guard dog bristled. "So, _milady_. What would you have me do?"


	16. Black Orchid - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other three girls follow Weiss' lead as she takes them to her family's estate, and Yang is none too pleased at the effect the house has on her teammates.

_An impossibly dark cocktail made with equal parts blue curacao and dark rum, with a splash of grenadine. Dark, mysterious, and a little unsettling._

The sun started to set just as their train slid to a halt. Glancing out the window, Yang found herself staring at the platform of a middling station by the name of Rimeholt, the name serving for both the station and the small city placed at the edge of the Atlas' border. Small enough that apart from the Schnee's private airfield, the only way to get to the city was to take the train from Atlas.

The cars jerked slightly as the four girls stood to leave. Yang was the first one to step out onto the platform, braced for the attack she still half-expected to come. But there were no gunshots, no explosions of dust, no roving gangs of hitmen. It was almost ... disappointing. An attack would have meant _something_ , would have given her something to go on, some lead to follow. She was a huntress, for heaven's sake. She needed something to _hunt_.

Yang sighed. This whole ordeal was getting to her, letting her imagination run wild. All she saw were the usual weekend travelers and the occasional family on holiday. A woman shushed her baby as she stepped on the escalator, trying to ignore the young couple pressing themselves against the wall in a particularly fond hello. There was no danger, and she turned back to help pass Ruby's luggage through the doors before Weiss moved to lead their fearless leader across the gap. Yang caught her sister's eye-roll as the heiress supported her off the step; the help might be unnecessary, but at least the younger girl had mostly resigned herself to the others' coddling. At least until her ribs healed. Weiss, strongly supported by Blake and Yang, had demanded that Ruby not exert herself – the last thing they needed was her cracked ribs getting worse.

She was actually a little surprised by how well Ruby was taking it. Normally, her sister would be the first to insist that she could handle herself, that she didn't need the others' assistance. _Either her ribs are worse that we thought, or she's actually_ enjoying _having Weiss doting on her._ Yang hoped it was the latter. The doctor had said Ruby would be fine. Rest and few days should be enough for her aura to fix the cracked bones, but Yang couldn't help worrying. It was her baby sister, after all. Worrying was in the job description.

With Ruby's bags divided between the other girls, they trudged through the crowd. Weiss, of course, hovered protectively around her girlfriend the entire way. Yang smirked a little, watching the short woman glower at anyone who _might_ be in a position to _possibly_ bump into Ruby.

Yang had to admit, the two made a pretty cute pair. She was happy _something_ had worked out between the two of them – it had always been a toss-up whether the two were good friends or actually had some spark of romance. Weiss' personality problems, Ruby's recurring lack of confidence, and both girls' insecurities made for a perfect relationship-stopping cocktail. Still, dealing with Weiss had always forced her sister to try harder, to push herself to be a better leader. From what Yang knew of Weiss, Ruby was the first person in years that the girl had really opened up to. _Hell,_ Yang thought, _she's_ _probably half the reason Weiss opened up to the rest of us_.

They came out into the center of the station, Weiss still guarding their injured teammate. The building was short and squat, and they had little trouble finding the exit, stepping out into the perfect image of a winter's night. Branches hung low under the weight of the day's snow, the lightly falling powder putting more salt than pepper into Blake's hair. Yang smiled as she watched the snow fall, sticking in the black tresses before melting away, a part of her wondering what it would be like to see the day when Blake's hair went grey.

An aged chauffeur stood at the curb, his silver hair only a few shades lighter than the oversized woolen coat wrapped around his stocky frame. Yang assumed it had fit once – a younger man's clothing kept as a reminder of the old days. Or maybe it was just nice and warm. A larger man stood at his side, his heavy frame and dark suit screaming 'private security.' A short bob of the head directed to Miss Schnee and her companions, and the four found themselves bundled into the back of the stark white limo. _Well, no one's ever accused the Schnee family of being 'subtle.'_

The older man folded himself into the driver's seat, twisting in the chair to look back at the heiress. "Straight to the house, miss? Or would you rather swing by-"

"The house, Patrick, and thank you."

Another bob of the head and they were off. Piles of driven snow flashed by the windows as their driver weaved his way through the city's heart. Yang had hoped the snowy roads would give her something to focus on, but the experienced Patrick navigated the slush with ease, leaving her with nothing to distract her from their failure.

When Weiss and Ruby had left the apartment, to grab the heiress' luggage from her palatial loft, she and Blake had headed back to the warehouse. There they spent several hours searching for something, _anything_ that could prove Adam was the one behind this. Or even better, something that proved he wasn't. But no, the place was spotless – odd for an abandoned building slated to get knocked down, but hardly something they could use to track the dead man back to his lair.

Assuming he had a lair. Yang assumed he had a lair. The redhead always seemed the wangsty, monologing, brooding type.

The city lights became less and less frequent as they drove, houses and storefronts getting more sporadic as they moved into the countryside. It wasn't long before they were on the outskirts of the city, the car rumbling as it slipped and slid up the treacherous hill.

"Almost there, miss."

Yang saw Weiss flinch, her eyes still staring blankly into the carpet while Ruby tried to take her hand. Blake's fidgeting worsened, lacking an outlet for her nervous energy in the confines of the car. Yang heard the telltale noise of grinding teeth, and forced her jaw to relax before she could grind them down to nubs. It was almost impressive. The mere idea of the approaching mansion had most of the team on edge. The only exception appeared to be Ruby. _Probably because of the painkillers_.

Frankly, she was more than ready to hate the house. The building represented every insult lobbed at her girlfriend. It was a symbol of human cruelty, of sneering faces and mocking laughter. On top of that, this place had hurt Weiss, hurt her _friend_ , left her with a legacy of loneliness and anger that had taken years to pull out of the proud girl.

Even distracted, she could see how the approaching palace was affecting her teammates. Half her attention was spent on keeping her semblance in check – it wouldn't be fair to incinerate the poor driver – the other half watching Blake's fidgets and Weiss' brooding. The dark girl could barely keep still, the ears beneath her bow pressed back against her hair while her knee bounced nervously. Weiss, on the other hand, had barely looked at any of them after getting in the car. She still just stared down at the floor, her eyes boring through the carpet. Ruby had a hand on her shoulder, trying to remind the heiress that she wasn't alone. Weiss didn't even seem to notice.

The car bounced, and Yang risked a glimpse out the window. She had to admit, she had a morbid curiosity for the place. Anything that had this effect on her girlfriend, her sister's girlfriend – her _teammates_ – was something evil. Some cold, dead monstrosity reigning over barren fields. She expected towers, cold marble and lifeless stone – the hard, frigid palace reflecting the long-frozen heart of its master.

She wasn't anywhere close.

The White Palace loomed over the perfectly trimmed grounds, the tower somehow whiter than the snow drifts that surrounded it. The central spire rose several stories into the air, the tip just piercing the reddened sky. Long, high-ceilinged halls shot out from the center, cutting across each other to form a lattice ringing around the tower. Halls ended like spurs, jutting out from the lower ring, the points spread equidistant from the center, the perfect symmetry marking as something unnatural, something that had no right to be there.

It was deceptively fragile, thin parapets paired with equally delicate crenelations, all sharp points thirsting for blood. The setting sun had died the roof red, leaving the tips and edges dripping with red. She had no doubt that if viewed from above, it would be a perfect replica of the Schnee crest, a jagged, bloody snowflake rising up from the ground.

If Beacon's tower was mysterious, drawing new students in with secrets and the promise of greater power, this place was ominous, unwelcoming. It was sullied by the mere presence of the vermin scampering within its halls, dirtying the floors and soiling the furniture. The house might tolerate your presence, for a time, but it held no compassion for the short-lived residents. It held court over the countryside, glaring down from the hill at the snow-covered grounds. It was proud and self-centered, demanding worship and adoration and promising nothing but disdain in return.

Yang was amazed Weiss had ever been able to escape. _Hell, I'm surprised the house_ _let her_.

Taking Blake's hand, she squeezed, needing the other girl to know she was there. Yang glared her challenge up at the looming tower, certain the frosty windows glared back. The building would do its job, if she had anything to say about it. It would protect them from whoever was hunting her partner. Then they would leave, and never to see this freak of architecture ever again.

_If I'm lucky, maybe Weiss'll let me burn it down._

* * *

Weiss steadied her breath before stepping out of the car. The rest of the team needed her strong, and showing the servants how much she dreaded returning to this house wouldn't help. She'd spent years practicing that fake smile – she could do it for a little longer.

She nodded as a young man she'd never met rushed past two members of her father's security to help Patrick unload their luggage, hefting the bags under his arms as he moved back inside. Yang managed to grab her own bags before the two could snap them up, insisting that 'she had this.' Rolling her eyes, Weiss allowed the two men to do their job, knowing they'd be more than careful with her bags.

Plus, it meant that she could pay more attention to Ruby.

A long, lanky man with coal-black hair stepped towards the car, bowing to the far shorter woman who stood before him. Weiss allowed herself a smile, this one a little less forced. The butler was nice enough, and she had never held his service to her father against him.

"Hello, Norman."

"Welcome back, Miss Schnee." The soft baritone was the flat tone of a lifelong manservant, polite and unassuming. Still, Weiss thought she could hear a little happiness under the phlegmatic professionalism. "I took the liberty of preparing rooms for you and your guests in the North wing."

That brought a genuine smile from Weiss."Thank you."

He bowed his head before turning back to the house. "My pleasure, Miss." _He might actually mean it, too._

Ruby leaned in, whispering into Weiss' ear as they followed the gaunt butler into the hall. "What's so special about the North wing?"

“My father’s rooms and offices are on the other side of the house.”

“Hah. Someone knows you,” Yang chimed in, hefting her suitcase over her shoulder.

Weiss shot Yang a glare, then went back to staring down the hall. _Thing is, she’s probably right,_ Weiss thought.  _And I’m not sure if that’s really a good thing._

Fortunately, it looked like the butler wasn't in the mood for a tour. Stopping at the top of the stairs, he gestured at the entrance to the north hall. "Just follow Patrick up to your rooms. Be careful if you decide to wander – it's easy to get turned around."

Weiss nodded absently. Neither she nor the butler mentioned that the mansion was designed specifically with that in mind. The house had multiple sets of blueprints and more than a few hushed-up additions that weren't on any listed description of the house. Supposedly, it made the house more difficult for intruders, even if they managed to get their hands on the building plans. Still, there was the side effect of forcing guests to depend on their host's hospitality just to find the front door. More than a few panels led to back tunnels if pressed, at least three doors didn't actually open, and one hall ended in a door that opened into thin air.

She was glad she knew the house by heart, the knot in her stomach twisting at the thought of relying on her father's hospitality.

"I'll give the grand tour tomorrow," she chimed in. It would be better that way, making sure the others knew enough not to get lost. Well, that Yang and Ruby knew enough not to get lost.

Norman cleared his throat, snapped her attention back to the aging butler.

"Miss Schnee? It's good to have you home."

Weiss opened her mouth to answer, and stopped. _It'd be proper to say I'm glad to be back_ , she thought. _Or some other non-answer. It's what my father expects. But ..._ The butler had always been kind. But he still worked for her father.

Honesty probably wasn't the safest idea. She settled for accuracy. "This isn't my home, Norman."

"Perhaps one day, Miss Schnee." With a bow, the lanky man slipped back down the hall, and out of sight.

Shaking her head, Weiss lead the others up after their driver, moving past another pair of guards stationed close inside the double doors, wires running down to their collars from military-issue earbuds.

_Well, at least it has the security we wanted._

Luckily, their rooms were fairly close. Within a few minutes she rounded one last corner to find Patrick and the young porter laying their bags just inside four doors facing each other across the hall. The two men nodded respectfully, then walked back down the hallway and out of sight.

Waving goodnight to the other girls, she slipped into her room, and let the door swing shut behind her. Pressing her back against the wood, Weiss waited until she heard the other three enter their rooms, then slipped back out into the hall. The others would be busy unpacking, or falling into bed, but she ... she needed to be alone.

She slipped down the hall, childhood memories reminding her which halls to avoid, which floorboards creaked, which side rooms to cut through. Soon she was deep into the East wing, ducking into the library when she heard the occasional maid.

There was no real reason to hide – the servants knew she had the run of the house. But if they saw her, they'd perk up with offers of assistance, prompt questions about how they could help, what they could do for the master's daughter. It was another part of the house she hated – the sheer size required a staff to maintain it, and a staff meant very little privacy.

It was probably what made her keep her apartment so isolated. Unlike most of her neighbors, she hadn't even considered hiring a cleaning service. Even among their friends, very few people were actually allowed into her home. That place was _hers_ , somewhere private, secure – somewhere only the people she completely trusted were allowed. It was a far cry from her father's house.

She waited until the woman had vanished down the hall before moving, stalking through the house until she came to a single large oaken door. Pressing her ear to the crack, she listened, waiting for the telltale murmur of voices through the wood. Hearing nothing, she slipped into the drawing-room, closing the heavy door behind her.

The room was dark and brown, filled with plush leather armchairs surrounding a low table. A fireplace sat well into the wall, wrought-iron over clay bricks to hold the heat. Moving to the side of the fireplace, Weiss flicked the hidden switch, a quick blast of fire dust making the hearth burst into flame. Feeling the heat on her back, she moved over to the sideboard, her hand ghosting across the glass decanters. She took a second to decide, then grabbed the brandy, pouring it carefully into one of the glass tumblers. She had just finished when a soft voice came from the now-open door.

"Nightcap?"

Weiss looked up from the bottle, surprise making her twitch. Blake stood in the doorway, charcoal bathrobe hanging open at her sides, her kimono swishing quietly as she stalked into the drawing room.

"Did Ruby steal all the blankets?" she asked, staring around the room.

"We have separate rooms, Blake." Weiss glared over the rim of her glass. The whole point of going this far away from the others was to be alone. _This is the last thing I need right now._

"I've seen how big those beds are. Don't think she'd mind a little company."

"... why exactly are you still awake?"

"New place. I'm prowling," the Faunus wiggled her ears, making the bow waggle back and forth. Weiss snorted, unable to keep a straight face at the sight of the black bow wiggling on its own.

"Looking for Schnee family secrets?" she asked, raising the drink to her lips.

The Faunus shook her head, her eyes running around the perimeter of the room. Her eyes paused on the light fixtures, and the few paintings hanging against the walls, before she mouthed 'bugs.'

Weiss shook her head and slumped down into the armchair closest to the fire. "Not in here. My father used – _uses –_ this place for his back-room deals. The ones with his 'questionable' business partners." Blake shrugged at that, but Weiss saw her lips twitch. "The room's checked daily, and probably by every other 'client' that comes in here. It might actually be the safest place in the mansion."

Blake shrugged, lowering herself into the chair opposite Weiss, shaking her head at the offered drink. "So, if Ruby's sleeping habits aren't keeping you up, why the drink?"

Weiss swirled the amber liquid in the tumbler, watching it lick at the sides of the glass. "Blake, I don't-"

"Weiss," the Faunus cut her off. "You're the one who gets on my case about opening up to the rest of the team. You should have known I'd return the favor."

Grimacing, Weiss took a sip, letting the liquid burn down her throat. The sensation helped, gave her something to focus on other than the sick feeling in her stomach. Sighing, she looked over at her teammate. "I hate this house. Lot of memories here I'd rather forget. And the last thing I want ruined by this place is her."

"The last couple years barely changed Ruby, a few nights in the 'White Palace' probably won't."

Weiss nodded a little, taking another sip. The knot in her stomach stayed, twisted and writhing at the thought of being back _here_.

"It bothers you that much?" Blake asked, stretching her legs towards the fire.

"The house?"

Blake shook her head. "Your scar."

Weiss looked up, realizing her free hand was resting along her cheek, tracing the streak of red with her fingertips. She dropped her hand back into her lap, gripping her knee to keep it from disobeying her again. Still the damage was done.

Letting out a short little sigh, Blake shifted in the leather chair.

"Look, you touch it when you're stressed. Or worried. It's a pretty common habit for anyone who's suffered a trauma like that."

 _Wonderful,_ Weiss thought, glaring into the fireplace. _I'm perfectly normal for a disfigured girl._

Apparently Blake wasn't going to let her get away with the silence. "You still haven't told her how you got it?"

Weiss took another sip and opened her mouth, ready to shut her down, make some crack about Blake's own issues. About her inability to open up to Yang, her problems with Adam, any of a dozen times they'd had to drag the truth out of their bookish friend.

Instead, she sighed and closed her mouth. _I_ _f anyone would understand ..._

She took another swallow of the amber liquid, letting the drink warm her throat as she stalled for time. "Blake, you ever worry if you told Yang everything about your past, she wouldn't see you the same way anymore?"

Blake stared off into the fireplace, the flames reflected in her golden eyes. "A little. We've all done things we're not proud of. Well, you and I have. Yang doesn't tend to regret much."

“This ... whatever thisis, I have just _barely_ managed to keep from royally screwing it up.” Weiss paused, her working as she tried to find the words. “Maybe it’s selfish, but … I don’t want her to see me as ‘damaged.’ I don’t want to give her another reason to leave.”

A snort came from the depths of the other chair, followed by a pair of long legs stretching out towards the hearth. “We’re all ‘damaged,’ Weiss. It’s amazing that any of us got this far without serious therapy.”

Blake leaned forward in her chair, trying to make the heiress meet her eyes. “She lost her mother when she was what? Three? She still had Yang, Qrow, and her dad, but there’s got to be some leftover issues from something like that. I was raised by an activist group that became a terrorist organization. We’re  _covered_  in scars, Weiss. For you, me, and Yang, it’s just a bit more literal.”

"But not Ruby. She doesn't have those scars."

"Not sure you should be telling me that."

Weiss glowered over at her smart-mouthed teammate, met only by a sideways shrug and a flicker of amused golden eyes.

"When she looks at me ..." Weiss started, and realized she had no idea what to say. "I hate feeling like this."

"Weiss, if you _really_ hated that scar, you could always have it removed. You've got more than enough money for a little elective surgery."

The unasked question hung in the room. Weiss knocked back the last of her drink, gaze shifting to the now-empty tumbler. The emptiness offended her. Being in this house offended her. Existing under the same roof as her goddamn father offended her.

Not caring what the next servant who cleaned the fireplace would think, she hurled the glass into the hearth, flames leaping in blue bursts to lick the last drops of alcohol from the shards. She saw Blake twitch at the sound of glass shattering on stone, but the golden eyes never left Weiss' face.

Her rage faded with the flames, leaving her feeling ... dissatisfied. Maybe she should throw another glass. _Or maybe ..._

“Before I left for Beacon, my father ...” Weiss swallowed, her throat tight. “He’d already scheduled the procedure. I refused. I thought maybe the scar would change something. Maybe he’d realize the danger he put me in. Maybe be a real father for once.”

Blake was silent, waiting for the white-haired girl to finish. When Weiss didn't say anything more, she sighed in defeat. Stretching her neck, she rose from the chair and moved back towards the door. She stopped with her hand on the knob, turning to look back at the dejected woman before the fire.

"Thank you, Weiss. I know you'd never come back here by choice."

"It was the best option, and you're my friend." Weiss forced a small smile. "You'd do the same for me."

The Faunus woman glanced at her, then looked away, fiddling absent-minded with one of the busts by the door. Weiss watched as her fingers toyed with the marble statuette, her face changing, her expression the same one the Faunus always had when she was thinking hard. Finally, she nodded and glanced back over her shoulder.

"She thinks it's attractive, by the way."

Weiss blinked, then stared over at the Faunus in confusion. “Excuse me?”

Blake sighed and met Weiss’ eyes. “I caught her in the bathroom our first year, putting lipstick over her eyelid to see how she’d look with one. Muttered something about dueling scars. I think she said it looked ‘badass.’”

Gold irises flashed as she stepped out of the room, smirking as the door swung shut. "Just something to keep in mind."

The latch clicked, and Weiss was left alone, listening to the flames crackle. After a long moment, she snapped to her feet, switching off the flames and downing another drink for good measure. Liquid courage and all that.

She didn't see anyone on her way back to their rooms. Either Blake was already back in her room or prowling another part of the house. Weiss couldn't bring herself to care – they were safe enough behind these walls, and Blake was sneaky enough to not get caught. If she wanted to know the layout of the mansion, that was her business.

Ruby's door was closed, not locked, and Weiss found herself torn between just heading in or knocking. She didn't want to give the wrong impression. Even with their ... intimacy over the past couple days, barging in didn't feel right. Still ... this wasn't a conversation to have out in the hall.

Finally settling for a brief rap on the door, she slipped into the room and locked the door behind her.

Ruby was already in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. At the knock, she started to rise, the comforter sliding down as she pushed herself up. She blinked a few times before her gaze settled squarely on Weiss.

"Hi."

The heiress nodded silently, and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked down at the younger woman she’d fallen for – the constantly bouncing, bumbling ball of excitement and joy. The bouncing ball that was staring up at her in complete silence, waiting for her to speak rather than doing her a favor and cutting her off.

“I’m sorry I’m bad at this.”

“This?” Ruby asked, brow furrowed.

“ _This._  Us. Letting someone else in.” Weiss sighed, nerves making her breath unsteady. “I’ve dealt with my ... issues on my own for a long time, and it’s ... _difficult_ sharing them with someone else.”

Ruby nodded silently, showing more patience than Weiss expected from the energetic girl. She waited, not saying anything, apparently knowing the heiress would use it as an excuse to stop.

Weiss found her fingers tracing the scar that crossed her eye, the slash of red still oddly smooth to her touch.

“You’ve never asked how I got this.”

Ruby blinked, then leaned towards her, one hand reaching out to touch the heiress’ face. Her thumb ran over the red crease, the gesture soft and gentle. Weiss flinch, and just managed to keep from moving away. She waited for the cringe, the disgust, the pity. The usual reactions whenever anyone first noticed the thin slash of red that marred her face.

They didn’t come. Ruby smiled, then leaned in and kissed Weiss’ cheek, right at the tip of the scar. “Yeah. I’m not a _complete_ idiot, Weiss. I know better than to ask that.”

Weiss took a breath, then let it out, hands knotting the bedsheets.  _Focus. If you stop now, you’ll never finish this._

“My father ... he had me start training when I was a child. The lessons were important – his heirs needed an education, after all. But it wasn’t just an heir he wanted. He wanted revenge for every attack on our company, for every friend and relative taken by the White Fang.” Weiss heard the bite in her words and decided she didn’t care. Ruby knew how she felt about her father. She didn’t need the fake smiles and careful phrases. Not anymore. “When Winter joined the army, when she refused to let him control her life … that meant he had to use me.”

“He made me fight his golems. Called it ‘practice.’ Eventually, I’d had enough. I thought maybe if he saw me get hurt, he’d call it off.” Weiss stared straight ahead, the old anger rushing back with every word. “So I held back. His knight broke through my guard, left me with this.”

She gestured at her scar, remembering her father’s face staring down at her. “He wasn’t even worried, just  _disappointed_ I’d gotten myself injured. That I’d failed him.”

Ruby hugged her then, wrapping her arms around Weiss’ shoulders and pulling the older girl down into the mattress. Weiss let her. She wasn’t crying; she’d run out of those tears long ago. Still, it was nice to be held, to know that someone cared. That Ruby cared.

“I could get rid of it,” she mumbled. “If you want.”

She felt Ruby go stiff before the younger girl could catch herself. Ruby shifted to look at her, and Weiss could almost hear the gears whirring in her head as she struggled to find an answer that didn’t end with her foot in her mouth.

“I’ve never seen you without your scar,” Ruby said finally. “It’s been part of you since we met, so ... I mean, if you want to, yeah ... but don’t do something like this for me, and definitely not for your dad.”

Weiss waited to see if Ruby would spout any more epiphanies, but it seemed like the younger girl was all out of self-image advice. She didn’t mind. If Ruby asked ... she’d have gotten rid of it. Not for her father,  _never_  for her father, but for Ruby ...

“Blake said you thought it looked badass.”

Ruby’s eyes widened a little as she blushed. “For a girl who likes her secrets, Blake is a blabbermouth.”

Weiss snorted, the knot in her stomach a little looser. “Thanks, Ruby.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For not trying to fix it. For putting up with me.”

“It’s okay, Weiss.” Ruby smiled sleepily. “You can repay me by telling me where your butler keeps the cookies.”

* * *

Blake returned to her room to find Yang spread-eagled on the mattress, the blankets already mangled by the lounging blonde. She locked the door behind her before moving to the window and tossed her bathrobe onto the chair in the corner. Yang just being there heated the room by several degrees, making it much warmer than the drafty hallway outside.

"Is Weiss okay?" her girlfriend asked, not bothering to get up from the mattress.

"I think so. It's this house ... and starting something with Ruby. She's terrified that she'll mess this up. That being back here will make Ruby want to leave her."

"I dunno, giant mansion filled with people waiting on you hand and foot seems like a pretty good reason to stay in a relationship." Yang drawled. Then her face changed and she popped up off the bed, making Blake's heart race at the sight of that grin creeping mischievously across her mouth. "You know what would be really fun? If we had sex, right now."

"Here?"

"A Faunus having sex in his guest room? Papa Schnee would _hate_ it. It'll be like dancing on his grave."

"You know he's not dead, right?"

"A girl can dream."

Blake shook her head at that, hearing the bite in Yang's voice. At least it seemed she was trying to replace the anger with something happy. "I doubt we'll go a day without one of the servants trying to clean up in here. Probably best if they not find out we've been screwing in the guest bedroom."

Yang sighed, slumping down next to Blake, looking every bit the dejected lover. For about a second.

Perking up, she looked up at Blake and grinned. "So ... shower sex?"

"Yang Xiao Long, you are incorrigible."

Yang bounced off the bed, letting the mattress rock while she landed on her feet, grinning all the while. Moving over, she draped herself over Blake's shoulders, lips pressed to the darker woman's neck. "You didn't say no"

Their clothes were long gone by the time they bumped into the door of the attached bathroom, Yang fumbling with the doorknob while Blake's teeth grazed her neck, their kisses growing increasingly sloppy.

"You know we'll need to shower again in the morning."

"I have to watch you take your clothes off _again_?" Yang joked, the mock complaint broken by continued kisses down her neck. "How will I _ever_ survive?"

Tile met Blake's feet as the two fought their way into the shower, the task made more difficult in the unfamiliar room. A knee slid its way between Blake's thighs, making her moan happily as she groped her girlfriend's breasts. They winced as the hot water hit them, Yang fumbling with the dial until they weren't in danger of second degree burns, Blake doing her best to be incredibly distracting the entire time. She ground her hips against Yang's thigh, pushing to get her own leg between the blonde's, to give the other girl the same relief.

"Come on, Blake. You're gonna have to try harder than that."

The dark-haired woman growled, shoving Yang back against the wall, pinning the blonde's hands with her own. Glaring at the smug, grinning woman, she licked and bit her way down, leaving a trail of marks running up the toned skin. Hands reached for her ears, only to get slapped away – Yang was _not_ going to distract her this time. With one hand holding Yang against the wall, Blake knelt before the taller woman, nestling her face between Yang's thighs. She could feel the abs tighten beneath her hands as her tongue drew up the taller girl's lips, swirling and flicking in every place she'd learned Yang liked.

Several minutes of licking and moaning later, Yang came with one well-placed bite to her thigh, her legs trembling a little with the effort to stay standing, hands clawing at the tiled wall. Her blonde mane was matted and soaked, clinging to her skin as she panted, eyes half-lidded.

Blake rose, careful not to slip in the water pooling around their feet. She kissed the marks she'd left behind until her own body was pressed against Yang's, pinning her to the wall. Water ran down her back in rivers, trickling anywhere Yang's hands weren't touching.

"Ah, always did like makeup sex," Yang panted, the water still streaming down their faces as they leaned against the wall.

"We really should go to bed – our _own_ beds," Blake added with a sigh when Yang started reaching towards her hips.

"You're really gonna kick me out?" Angling her head down, Yang stared up at her, giving an almost perfect impression of Ruby's puppy dog eyes.

Blake flicked her girlfriend's forehead, making her pull back, grinning as she rubbed between her brows. "I don't have an excuse for why there's a naked blonde sleeping in my bed."

Yang drew herself up to her full height, staring _very_ seriously down at the Faunus. "One, I still haven't done _you_ yet. Two: Belladonna, as your bodyguard, I insist on staying in the same room with you. At all times." She broke character, the dutiful protector dissolving into the giant goofball who drove her crazy. "Considering how sneaky you are, I may even have to stay in the same bed."

"Well, if you're going to _insist_ ..."

Yang grinned, murmuring "That's better," before pressing her lips to the crook of Blake's neck, her thigh rubbing distractingly between her legs.

"Yang!"

"One more time, then we sleep."

"Incorrigible," Blake moaned, raking her nails down the muscled girl's back.

"You love it."


	17. Ruby Duchess - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY explores some of the Schnee estate, and Weiss is forced to confront her family's history. WhiteRose angst and comfort.

_Mix two parts sparkling wine and one part pomegranate juice. Add a splash of raspberry liqueur to get that gleaming, gem-like color._

The harsh beeping of her alarm woke Weiss the next morning, the scroll oblivious to the furious scowl she shot at it. Reaching over, she smacked the snooze button, then just lay there for a minute, glaring at the little flashing digits in the pre-dawn light. She didn’t  _have_ to get up. Not right now. Not really. She could sleep another hour. There was just the risk of her teammates wandering around the house, and that wouldn’t be too terrible. Blake would be careful not to draw attention to herself, especially _here_. Yang and Ruby ... that was the problem. She didn’t want to see what might happen if Yang ran into her father. The blonde wasn’t known for her restraint, and she had never been reluctant to defend her friends. As for Ruby ...

There was no way she could leave Ruby unprotected. Not here.

Groaning, Weiss forced herself off the mattress and dragged her tired body to the shower. Still half-asleep, she groggily went through her morning routine, preparing herself for an almost certainly difficult day. She paused briefly before pulling on her huntress gear, ignoring the more formal outfits beside it. The jacket settled over her shoulders like armor, making her feel like the huntress she was, not the child afraid to face her father. Before this was over, she’d probably need that support.

The heiress stepped out into the hall, and hoped she’d managed to wake before the others. She didn’t want to see what would happen if the three just started wandering the halls in search of food. They would probably be fine, as long as it was just the servants they ran into. Her family, on the other hand ...

Yang’s door creaked open a few minutes later, letting out a groggy blonde who tried to wander down the hall in her pajamas. Catching her teammate before she could go too far, Weiss shoved her back towards her room, demanding that she put on actual clothes. Something vaguely presentable. With a grumbled complaint, Yang glowered at her door, walked in, and grabbed her bag. Still growling about monsters who required showers and clothing  _before_ coffee, she marched down the hall, and slipped into her girlfriend’s room without a word.

 _That’s ... actually pretty cute_ , Weiss thought, and couldn’t help but smile at the idea of a grumpy Yang crawling into bed with Blake.  _Someone_  deserved to wake up happy.

Once all three were up, bathed and dressed to Weiss’ demands – and complaining loudly about the need for coffee, tea, and various other stimulants – they found their way out into the hall. Weiss sighed. It was a necessary evil – she knew the others weren’t used to a ‘formal breakfast,’ but her father demanded a certain level of ‘decorum’ in the house. She doubted there’d be any real consequences, but it would mean one more battle she’d have to fight. One she didn’t particularly want to. Better to safe the effort for when it counted.

Weiss checked her friends one last time, finding one last missed button on Ruby’s shirt. Yang still had circles under her eyes, but Blake actually looked surprisingly awake for a caffeine addict. Weiss had a sneaking suspicion that waking up next to Yang had something to do with it. Then she noticed the bow resting atop her friend’s black hair.

Her stomach writhed. It had been years since Blake last wore that thing; these days she kept it as a memento, not an actual piece of clothing. Weiss had grown used to her friend’s ears, to seeing the little tufts flick as the air hit them. With that bow on, it just ... looked wrong. Like a part of her friend was missing. And it was her fault. Her father’s fault.

Blake met her eyes, and must have seen something in them. The Faunus woman shrugged and moved closer to Yang, laying her head on the blonde’s shoulder before smiling sleepily at Weiss. “It’s fine.”

Weiss shook her head. It wasn’t fine. It also wasn’t okay that it had taken her this long to notice. But it  _was_  one more thing her father would have to answer for. He’d already run up quite the tab.

The dining room was wonderfully abandoned, apart from the maid who bustled in with their breakfast, plates rattling on the trays she set down. Taking a seat at the end of the table, Weiss laid the napkin across her lap and ignored the efficient woman. The maid was new, or  _newer_ at least. The heiress remembered the aged staff from her childhood, when there had been days where every face she saw had laugh lines and crows’ feet. This one ... she looked about the same age as Weiss. A year or two older, at most. It made her wonder when that had started, when Morden Schnee had replaced her mother’s staff.

The others followed Weiss’ lead, siting beside each other at one end of the too-long table as everything from bacon, eggs, and toast to black pudding and grilled kidneys appeared before them. Once everything was settled, the maid bowed her head to Weiss before slipping out of the room, leaving the four girls to their breakfast.

“This is safe, right?” Yang asked, poking the black pudding with her fork.

A wry smile crossed Weiss’ lips. “My father wouldn’t poison us. Not in the house.”

From the look Yang gave her, she wasn’t sure if Weiss was joking. Muttering something about that not being the question, Yang gingerly bit into her eggs, as if she could somehow taste if the food was deadly. By then, Blake had claimed the teapot press for herself – she wouldn’t even touch the coffee unless it was Yang’s – and was well into her second cup before she even touched her food.

Weiss gathered her own breakfast while Ruby watched out of the corner of her eye. Whatever Weiss added to her plate, Ruby did too, trying to be discrete and failing miserably. The heiress couldn’t blame her – some of the food was just old-fashioned enough to be new for the younger girl. Hiding her smile, Weiss grabbed only what she knew Ruby would eat, making an exception for one of the large black sausages. They were a local dish from Atlas, and particularly hard to find in Vale unless she wanted to make them herself. For some reason, they always reminded her of the few good things from home. The short list of  _good_  memories

By the time Weiss looked up from her food, Ruby had mustered up the courage to try a large bite her own sausage, her face writhing as she fought the urge to gag. Weiss twinged with guilt – she’d been too lost in thought to warn the poor girl.

“Weish,” Ruby managed, talking around the half-chewed mass clogged in her mouth, “Wha’ is in ‘dis?”

“Pork fat, boar blood, and oatmeal, mostly.” She watched as the sisters’ faces shifted between disbelief and nausea before cutting off a piece for herself. “Bit of an acquired taste.”

Ruby gagged again, but managed to swallow while Weiss patted her back and took the offending sausage from her plate. Yang opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, boots clicked along the hardwood floor, a rhythmic clacking heading straight for the dining room. Her spirits already lifting, she speared a bit of egg into her mouth, swallowing just as a tall figure stepped into the room.

“When they told me you had arrived, I could barely believe it.”

Weiss looked up and smiled. She knew who stood in the doorway, tall and imposing in her uniform. It was a woman in her early thirties, clothes straightened to military precision. Bright blue eyes glinted from behind her white bangs, but there the resemblance ended. Where Weiss was petite and angular – ‘svelte’ to those who wanted to keep their hides intact – this woman had curves that rivaled Yang’s.

Weiss set her fork aside and faced her sister, the picture of polite diplomacy as she welcomed her into the room. It wasn’t difficult. She _was_ truly happy to see her.

“Morning, Winter.”

Winter nodded a greeting, eyes lighting up as they shifted across her team. “I heard you’d arrived, but I never imagined you would actually bring a  _friend_ , much less three of them.”

Weiss smile flickered for a second. It was more difficult pretending everything was fine than she remembered; the time with her team, with her friends, had left her out of practice.

“Everyone, you’ve all met my sister.” She could practically hear Yang’s neck snap as the blonde whipped around to look at her. Ruby looked up for a moment before returning to her food, eyes focused down on the plate in front of her. Blake bobbed her head politely before returning to her coffee, completely unfazed by the newcomer.

Seating herself on the opposite side of Ruby, Winter reached for her own plate. Breakfast mingled with the introductions and re-introductions, pepper quickly joining the eggs before a fork daintily speared the food and delivered it to the older sister’s mouth. Everyone returned to their meals, scraping forks and clinking glasses broken only occasionally by the two Schnee daughters, polite conversation turning to the odd question about hometowns (“How is Patch this time of year?”) or their trip (“Dreadful things, those winter trains”).

After a few bites, Winter turned to Ruby, a glint in her eyes that made Weiss wish she’d insisted on seating her girlfriend safely at the end. “How exactly did you all meet? That is one story my dear sister has neglected to tell.”

Ruby blanched a little, giving Weiss a panicked look before turning back to the elder sister. “We kinda ... got launched off a cliff. We fought some Grimm together, Weiss threw me at a Nevermore ... it was a whole ... thing.”

“I see.” From Winter’s tone, Weiss was fairly sure she didn’t. “I had forgotten how much Ozpin liked that ‘thrown together by chance’ shtick. Seems rather silly, when one thinks about it.”

Yang’s head shifted to the side, jaw set in the expression the brawler got when she decided someone really needed their face punched in. Weiss cleared her throat, dragging Winter’s attention back to her. Whatever had set her off, she couldn’t have Yang decapitating her sister over the breakfast table.

“Are you on leave, Winter, or are you heading back soon?”

“Our father has asked that I stay, to represent the military for one of his events. Although I really should be asking you that, Weiss.”

“A few days, maybe a week.”

“Well,” Winter sighed her brows flicking slightly in surprise as she returned to her meal. “Father’s playing host for a charity gala over the weekend. Will you and your teammates be attending?”

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Hardly,” she said, her voice dry. “The Schnee heir, returned to polite society after her long absence? It’ll make this the height of gossip for months.” Winter stood to leave, her voice lowered. “Do make sure your guests have the appropriate attire, and manage not to trip over their own feet.”

“Winter.”

Her sister paused, one hand still on the door frame. Turning, she glanced over her shoulder, sleek hair flicking along the side of her face as she glanced back, one brow arched in a silent question.

“Is Father home?”

Winter blinked, then frowned. “In Atlas, dealing with some last-minute board meeting. He’ll return in time for the gala.” Then, coattails swirling, she stalked out of the room, letting the door click shut behind her. The four huntresses fidgeted, reminding Weiss of cats settling their ruffled fur. She let out a sigh, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders.

“She still looks nothing like you,” Yang drawled, irritation making her flippant.

“And you look so much like yours?” Weiss dabbed at her mouth, then pushed herself away from the table before making for the door.

Yang nodded slowly, still trying to work through the laundry list of questions she had to have. “... ‘kay. Don’t suppose you feel like explaining what that was all about?”

“Not here, unless you want a few extra ears joining the conversation.” Weiss slipped out of the dining room, noting the house-maid who just happened to be dusting within earshot. Ignoring her, Weiss strode back down the main hall, swinging by her room to grab her coat before trudging off towards the east wing. She walked fast, leaving the others little choice but to keep up or get left behind.

Cutting through an abandoned sitting room, Weiss stepped out onto the veranda, angling away from the house as she forced her way through the snowdrifts. Morning light glinted off the snow-covered ground, the rolling lawn sparkling as it sloped down around the mansion. Pushing forward, she drove her booted feet through the snow and walked down towards the garden, passing by the boat house sitting beside the frozen lake. She paused for a moment to look over the sleet of ice, remembering winters spent carving grooves with her skates, spending hours in happy solitude. It was one of the times she had been truly free, where all that mattered was the air whipping through her coat and the ice that allowed her to fly.

Snow crunched as the others finally caught up. Sighing, she turned away from the lake, striding past the tall oaks and straining pines until she came to the building she wanted. A small music house sat at the crest of the low hill, a ring of gothic columns supporting the snow-laden roof. Her leather boots thudded against the wooden steps, carrying her up onto the pavilion’s platform. There was a bench that ran around the edge, designed to seat guests or performers. Clearing away the snow, she sat and waited, letting herself relive what memories she still carried of the circular bandstand. She’d performed on this stage, sang for her father’s guests and his hangers’ on. There had been the odd recital, but most were just times when her father felt the need to display his daughters’ talents. To wheel them out like his personal dancing bears. There had been applause, acclaim, compliments. Some of them even seemed genuine.

She was always just happy when it was over.

It was only a few minutes before the other three girls caught up, brushing snow from their coats. Ruby was quick to sit beside Weiss, hands in her lap as she stared at the older girl, looking worried. Yang sat on the opposite bench, practically vibrating with impatience, her need to be told  _now_.

“Can I say it now?”

Weiss nodded. The ground was clear enough that they’d see anyone try to get close enough to overhear. No sense in making Yang hold it in after all this.

“What the hell is going on with your family?”

Weiss’ brows twitched in wry acceptance. “It’s complicated.”

“How complicated?”

“Marriage, death, a brief explanation of trust law, various forms of parental neglect.” Weiss counted the reasons off on her fingers. And those were only the ones she was sure of. Much of it had been secondhand anyway - the curse of being a small child at the time.

The heiress let the conversation die, staring out over the snowbanks as an awkward silence filled the space. Snow started to fall, drifting down past the rafters to dust along the railing.

“How much do you know about the Schnees?”

“That you’re rich? That you have a less-than-stellar relationship with your father?” Yang drawled sarcastically, before a glance from Ruby cut her off.

“That’s putting it mildly.” Weiss sighed and gripped her knees with her hands. She hated talking about this. She’d spent the last six years doing everything she could to get away from it. From this house, from her father …

A hand slid atop her own, and Weiss glanced up to find gray eyes staring back at her. The worry in them was obvious, even when Ruby tried what was probably meant as an encouraging smile.

Looking back at Yang, Weiss cleared her throat, breath turning to mist in the frigid air. “My mother, Adalind Schnee, died when I was five. Car crash. When Winter turned sixteen, one of our mother’s lawyers met with her, gave her our mother’s private records. She ... she had a lot of secrets.”

“Like?”

“Apparently, my parents’ marriage was more of a ‘business arrangement.’” Weiss gripped her knee a little tighter, digging her fingers into her skirt. “My mother was a brilliant businesswoman. She was this corporate raider – she’d go in and dismantle failing companies, sell off their parts to other businesses. By the time she married my father, her holdings were almost as big as his.”

There was a brief flash of memory, of a soft voice, blue eyes, and a tight smile. “Before they met, the Schnee Dust Corporation was in a … difficult spot. There’d been some failed projects, a program launch that hadn’t gone well, you get the idea. They needed a white knight investor. Someone who could keep the company afloat.”

Blake chimed in, her voice low and dry, golden eyes giving no sign of whatever was going through her head. “And who better to trust than family?”

“Calling it ‘trust’ is a little strong. They both knew she’d look out for her own interests. As long as they were the same as the family’s, they could work together. So my grandfather set it up. Her marriage to my father brought her into the family, along with the money she brought to Schnee Dust. She got the prestige of the Schnee name, and my father got an heir to the throne.” Weiss shrugged. She’d spent her anger at her mother a long time ago. There was little use holding onto resentment for a dead woman. “It was a perfect match.”

“And this the part where you tell us what went wrong?” Weiss almost smiled at that. Almost. Trust Yang to stay on point.

“My mother … she was ambitious. Very ambitious. Over the years, a few holding companies no one had heard of started buying up Schnee Dust shares. Eventually, over half our stock was owned by shell corporations that belonged to other shell corporations, which were owned by … you get the idea. Turns out, they were all hers. By the time she died, my mother owned well over half of all Schnee Dust stock.”

Yang whistled, her eyes wide. “Wow. Bet your dad wasn’t happy about that.”

Weiss gave a small smile, imagining the hoops her mother must have jumped through to keep it all a secret. “When he found out, my father … I was too young to remember much. Just him yelling. I spent the night in Winter’s room, and we could still hear him screaming.”

“She left that night. Two days later, she was dead.”

“You think …”

“He did it?” the heiress swallowed and looked back down at the floor. “I don’t know. They never found the other driver, and the car was stolen, so …” Ruby managed to wriggle her fingers beneath Weiss’ palm, and heiress gripped them gratefully, glad to have something, someone, to hold onto. “She left us  _everything_ she had. Everything. Her fortune, her holdings ... her shares. Everything went into a trust.”

“For you and your sister?” Blake asked.

Weiss nodded. “Winter doesn’t talk about her. She was older, knew her better. I think … I think Winter hated her for putting us in that position. When she graduated from Atlas, Winter joined the military, got out from under our father’s control. When she turned twenty, she took her half of our inheritance, but refused any of the SDC stock. She didn’t want anything to do with the company anymore.”

Blake nodded, finally understanding. “So now it all goes to you.”

Weiss nodded. “Technically, I own most of the company, it’s just held in trust until I ... basically until I choose to accept it. Over the years, the people in charge of the trust … they’ve been replacing SDC board members whenever they can. Right now, most of the board is loyal to them, to my mother.” Weiss grimaced, unable to keep the spite out of her voice. Whatever her feelings for her father ... no mother should put their daughter in a situation like that.

“And in a language the rest of us speak?” Yang drawled.

Blake put her hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “Her mother set it up so Weiss can have the board fire her father and take his company from him.” She hadn’t wasted a beat. Weiss let out a long breath. Trust Blake to know all of this without asking.

“Okay, that’s ... mildly sociopathic, and  _really_  terrible parenting.”

“I’ve read their reports,” Weiss said, cutting into whatever answer Blake might have. “Even without the attacks by the White Fang, my father’s control over the SDC has been slipping for years. The board that manages my trust replaced directors, undermined his position in the company, weakened him wherever they could. It’s one of the reasons my father had so much trouble with the White Fang – he was fighting just to hold onto the SDC the entire time.”

Yang nodded slowly before meeting the heiress’ eyes. “Your family’s fucked up.”

Weiss couldn’t help it. There was just something about the blonde’s ability to reduce almost twenty years of her life down to four words. To pack years of aggression and resentment into one simple phrase. She laughed and laughed, until tears came to her eyes, the cold air freezing her throat and making her chest burn. Through it all, Ruby just sat there, holding her hand and watching her face, waiting for some sign. Some indication that Weiss needed ... something.

“Yeah,” she said, once she got a hold of herself. “Yeah they are.”

The four girls sat in silence in the middle of the music house, snowflakes starting to drift down past the sides. There just didn’t seem like anything to say. There wasn’t anything she could do. Nothing short of finding some way to wriggle out of her inheritance. Weiss hated what her father had made of the SDC, wanted nothing to do with the company, except ...

Except, it was her grandfather’s company. Except her father’s manipulations and his greed. Except for the Faunus working in her family’s mines, beyond the reach of any of the kingdoms and their laws.

The white-haired woman sighed, brushing droplets from her coat as she stood. Ruby followed, fingers still twined with Weiss’, refusing to let her go.

“We might as well go back. I hear there’s a party to plan for.”

* * *

 

As it turned out, the charity gala was a  _bal masque_ , a concept completely foreign to Blake and Ruby, and one that made Yang groan.

“Think costume party, but _way_ less fun.”

Weiss let Yang complain. Whoever had arranged the damn thing had chosen ‘Myth and Legend’ for the theme, keeping it just generic enough that the guests could wear whatever they wanted and still call it a ‘costume.’ Which was driving the blonde up a wall.

“I’ll talk to Norman,” Weiss said once Yang stopped muttering angrily about ‘poor party planning.’ “I’m sure we can find something for everyone to wear.”

Blake nodded and began lacing her coat back up, wrapping the long black scarf tighter around her neck. “While you handle that, Yang and I can check the town.”

“Is that safe?”

“Maybe. If we’re lucky, we’ll see if someone’s tailing us. If not,” the Faunus paused for a second, one hand running along the handle of her shroud. “Yang and I can handle it.”

“Have James take you down. He’ll be happy to get out of the house.” Blake and Yang nodded, then bustled out the door, heading off to rouse the aging driver.

Which, of course, left the two remaining huntresses alone, dripping slush onto the entryway.

Weiss thought about saying something. Some platitude about how it was all okay, how she was fine. She couldn’t manage it. Without a word, she trudged up the main staircase and headed back to her room, Ruby following behind in solemn silence. Closing the door behind her, Weiss let herself fall back on the bed, completely and utterly drained.

Someone knocked on the door. They were quiet, hesitating between knocks as if they weren’t sure they should be knocking.

“Ruby, if it’s okay, I’d like to be alone right now.”

It took her a minute, but the younger woman decided to ignore her girlfriend. Without a word, Ruby opened the door anyway and joined Weiss on the bed, a large box cradled under her arm. The heiress sat up, staring down at her knees, looking anywhere but at the girl staring at her with concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” It wasn’t her best effort, and she knew it. Ruby knew it too.

The brunette leaned in, ducking down so she could look up into Weiss’ eyes. “You’re not that good a liar.”

Weiss let out a sigh, wishing it was as easy to let go of the tension roiling in her stomach. “My father is a complete bastard, and by all accounts, my mother wasn’t much better.”

“Weiss …”

The heiress shook her head. She needed to finish, needed to just get through this. “When I was a child, I hoped that if I was good enough, maybe he’d remember I was his daughter, not some business rival. That I _wanted_ to be on his side. Then I gave up. I saw what he was, and I refused to be anything like him. I told myself again and again that I wouldn’t become my parents, that I wouldn’t hurt the people around me, that I…” She gave up, meeting Ruby’s gaze and not caring what the other girl saw in her eyes. “I’m not sure any more.”

“This about that night?”

“Ruby, what I did-”

“ _We_ got drunk, and  _we_  slept together. It happens. Apparently, it’s kinda common when you mix alcohol and two people who are  _really_  attracted to each other. The reason I’m still here is that I’m actually happy about you and me ... doing stuff.” Ruby reached over, her hand resting on Weiss’ knee.

“I don't know how many ways I can tell you that we didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. I just ... we went from you hating me, to teammates, to friends, to ... to this. There’s gonna to be a little whiplash.”

Before Weiss could move, Ruby swept the slightly shorter woman into her arms, doing her best Yang impression as she tried to crush the wind from her lover’s lungs. “We need to have that talk you wanted. ‘Cause apparently, that’s the only way I can convince you it’s okay to touch me.”

“Th-that’s not-”

“Weiss, I had to  _ask_  you to sit next to me on the train, and you still spent most of the ride staring out the window and trying to keep your knee from brushing mine.”

Ruby let her go, grabbing the box she’d brought from her room. She held it against her chest for a second, fighting some inner battle, before thrusting the package out towards Weiss. “I was going to wait until the Midwinter festival, but ... this seems like a good time. I thought, maybe, you could ... use it for the party.”

At her girlfriend’s urging, Weiss opened the box, her nails making short work of the thin tape holding the lid in place. It was the dress. Not just a dress,  _the_  dress. The one from the boutique Ruby had dragged her to, the one just expensive enough to make even her hesitate. Lapis-blue silk that draped from one shoulder, showing just enough skin to be fashionable, resting safely on the conservative side of daring.

Ruby started babbling, going fast enough that Weiss only caught half of everything she said. “I had this plan, when I thought you were mad at me. I wanted to get you the  _perfect_  gift, tell you that ...” she trailed off, turning red. “Th-that I really, _really_ like you, and ask if you felt the same way, but I wasn’t sure if you’d like it so I had to get you to come look at them with me and I know I’m really bad at this kinda stuff but you wouldn’t suggest anything for Yang that you didn’t like so I thought maybe it was the best way and please say something because I really-”

Weiss tossed the box on the bed, stopping her girlfriend’s rambling and kissing her with all the passion her young body could muster. She felt Ruby melt into the kiss, arms twining around her neck as they sat on the bed.

“Ruby, how did you afford this?” Weiss asked when they came apart.

“It wasn’t  _that_  bad,” she said evasively, and cringed under Weiss' glare. “Apart from parts for Crescent Rose, I don’t really spend that much. Figured that if I was going to spend it on anything, I might as well spend it ... on you. Ya like it?”

“I really don’t deserve this. Or you.”

Ruby’s smile faded, and she took a second before meeting the heiress’ eyes. The sparkle her eyes normally held, the joy, was gone, replaced by something else. Something hard. Weiss had to resist leaning her head into Ruby’s palm as the younger girl pulled away ... only to flick Weiss hard in the forehead.

Weiss yelped, rubbing at the suddenly sore spot between her brows. “The hell, Ruby?”

Ruby sighed and kissed her cheek, ignoring the scowl the heiress shot at her. “Weiss, I’m gonna spend as long as it takes to convince you that you’re wrong. If only to make up for the rest of your family.”

She moved in to kiss her again, and Weiss pulled away.

“Sorry, I ... I need to visit my attorney,” Weiss swallowed. If she kissed Ruby now, Weiss wasn’t sure she could stop, and there was something she needed to do.  _Had_  to do. “It’s about the company. Otherwise, I’d ...”

The brunette nodded, and managed to only look a little disappointed. “It’s okay. Go take care of it.” Her next words were careful, deliberate, designed to make sure Weiss heard the weight behind each one. “I’ll be here when you get back. For as long as it takes.

“... and after that?”

“It’ll be after. Guess we’ll have to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry about the delay on this one. I had a lot of trouble getting the scene together, and while I'm still not happy with it, it's as good as it's going to get for now. The next few chapters should be a lot easier, so expect more frequent updates. As always, please feel free to review, especially if it's criticism - it's always appreciated.


	18. Beggar's Banquet - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team heads to Winter's ball, waiting for Blake's pursuers to arrive. Bumbleby fluff, and lots of costume porn.

_Throw in two dashes of bitters, a shot of lemon juice, three-fourths a shot of maple syrup, two shots of bourbon, and top up with beer. Wonderful mix of dark liquor and yellow citrus for a night you won't soon forget._

The days before the ball were quiet and peaceful. Yang moved her bags into Blake's room after that first night, calling it her duty as a bodyguard (Weiss supposed it _would_ be easier to guard a body you slept beside). There weren't any comments from the staff, although James gave Yang a very congratulatory wink when Blake fell asleep on her shoulder.

Ruby spent the days cajoling Weiss out of the house. She managed most of the time, using Weiss' desire to avoid the steadily arriving guests as an excuse to drag her out onto the snow-covered grounds. Only when they were beyond the estate's gates would Weiss finally start to relax, pulled along by the red-cloaked girl with their teammates following behind.

Forced to be their guide, Weiss took them on tours of the town, showing off the tall, skinny townhouses that ran along the busy streets. Time and weather had warped the buildings. Older beams held up their roofs at odd angles, and the upper stories jutted out over the streets, straining to shield passers-by from the winter sky. It was a mismatch of styles, modern structures crammed in beside old gabled roofs, stone and wood and steel sitting side-by-side, the genuinely old standing proud among the convincing imitations.

The entire town looked gorgeous enough to eat, especially with the snow layered like frosting over everything in sight. For Ruby, and her periodically protesting captive, there were snowmen to build, ponds to skate, and coffee to drink, with the aromas of peppermint, caramel, and gingerbread constantly wafting through the chill air. Blake and Yang hung back, letting the younger woman have her fun while their eyes carefully scanned the passing faces. They hadn't seen a single sign of whoever was after Blake, and the wait was beginning to grate on their nerves. No men in trenchcoats followed them through the streets, no acrobats in black robes flipped across rooftops to keep them in sight. The anticipation was getting to them, and Blake found herself more and more on edge every day, sleeping only thanks to Yang's insistent cuddling.

Dinner was taken in pubs, with long, heavy meals after hours of trudging through the snow and more than a few snowballs from Yang. The older girls would shake the ice from their clothes, grabbing pub fare while Yang ordered the first round, doing what they could to forget their frustration.

Ruby always sat the closest to the fire, her gloves thoroughly soaked after building what she affectionately dubbed the Snow Guard. Her army of snowmen stood watch over the town, each of them surprisingly well-armed with icicle weapons, the odd rose petal sticking here or there. Local children had started adding to her creations, and now battles raged outside the gates, frozen warriors dueling with undersized beowolves.

Eventually, after stews and soda bread and pies filled with whatever meat the shop would offer, the ever-punctual James would appear, bundling them into the backseat of the heated car and rumbling back to the estate.

The days crawled by, until at last the costumes arrived and the decorations were hung. The Schnee staff decked the mansion in silver and blue, doing their best to brighten the stark white Schnee hall. Indigo sparks of delphiniums lined the gravel drive, leading up to a house where music filled the halls and light poured out through frosted glass. Blake watched from the upstairs window as the last cars began to arrive, guests unfolding themselves while the reluctant hostess welcomed them into Weiss' home. Turning back to the mirror, she fixed the pitch-black cloak around her shoulders, ears twitching at the rustle of silk behind her.

"So ... too much?"

The Faunus' eyes went wide as she looked into the mirror, and watched Yang step out from the bathroom.

It was stunning. Yang was dressed as some sun goddess whose name none of them could pronounce, dragged out from Mistralan lore in all her splendor. Mythology was not the Faunus' forte, but Blake was pretty sure the outfit wasn't what you could call 'historically accurate.' It was little more than an impressively long stream of silk, tucking and winding around Yang's form until she tossed the end jauntily over one shoulder. It twisted around her chest, showing alternating sides of muscled skin, baring most of one leg, half her abs, and – what was making Blake ogle the blonde like an adolescent schoolboy – the underside of her girlfriend's breasts. Yang had somehow managed to get it to drape _just so_ , the lower curves peeking out beneath the red-gold silk. The whole outfit looked like a swift breeze would rip the entire costume off her, and with the look in Yang's eyes, Blake doubted the blonde would mind. She looked glorious, radiant, and if Yang stood there any longer, Blake was going to lose control and tackle her onto the bed.

"You're going in _that_?" she managed, her mouth dry.

"Oh, hell no." Yang tried to move, then lunged to grab the upper fold before it slipped and fell to the floor, dragging the rest of the costume off with it. "I can't breathe without it coming off. My tube top goes under it, and I'll pin the rest together." Blake stiffened, something soft pressing against her shoulder as the brawler leaned in, breath tickling her ear. "I just thought you could use a bit of a pick-me-up."

The Faunus let out a breathy laugh, tickling her girlfriend's stomach until the blonde agreed to put on the rest of her clothes. Her self-control no longer in mortal danger, Blake returned to the mirror, and put on the final touches of her costume. Thankfully, hers was much more concealing than Yang's ... drapes.

Ember Celica was easy to hide; the streams of cloth covering her right arm and trailing from her wrists hid the bracelets well enough, and even if someone saw them, a bit of jewelry wouldn't be surprising. The Gambol Shroud made her outfit a lot more difficult. At the moment, the scabbard hung between her shoulder blades, hidden from sight by the swirling Vacuan robes she wore.

Where Yang's outfit looked like it might come undone with a single yank – surprisingly untrue, after the brawler belted and pinned herself into the silk folds – Blake barely had an inch of skin that wasn't covered in light-leeching black. A long ebony overcoat hugged her sides, drawing the eye down to her waist. Smoky lines ringed her eyes, making them look larger and far darker than she normal liked. A cloak ran around her shoulders, the angled cloth hanging down to her bicep on one arm, flowing into a misshapen cowl that hid her ears, or would if they weren't already wrapped into her bow.

Yang returned from the bathroom and rested her chin on her girlfriend's shoulder, grinning at their reflections. "You look so hot right now."

"Flatterer," Blake shrugged Yang off, and flipped the hood over her face. "You have a thing for dangerous women."

"No, I have a thing for _you_ , especially when you look all badass like this." The blonde was pressing into her, gold silk rubbing against black cloth as she pulled the hood further down Blake's face. She leaned in, lips pressing against hers beneath the cowl. "I wish Dad were here."

Blake pulled, head cocked as she stared at Yang. "I liked Tai, but I would be pretty awkward kissing you in front of him. After he stopped cheering you on."

"Not 'here' here. Just ... I wish I could have introduced you to him."

"You did. Several times."

"No, I mean," Yang raised the hood enough to scowl down at her partner. "You're not helping. I wish I'd gotten the chance to show you off to him, you know, as my girlfriend. He would have loved you, loved seeing me with you. I'm just ... wishing we did this sooner."

Rocking onto the balls of her feet, Blake tucked the blonde's head under her chin and ran her hands down the mass of yellow waves. She didn't know what to say, what she _could_ say. Blake barely remembered her parents, and for all she wished she could have known them, it wasn't the same as Yang's loss. Two parents dead, with a birth mother she'd never really known.

"I'm sorry, Yang."

The blonde took a deep breath and leaned into her, cheek pressed against the Faunus' collar. "Don't be. It's not your fault he got sick and at least he's with Summer, so that's something." The words were hollow, and Blake could hear the pain that normally hid behind her girlfriend's grin. "I just ... I wish Dad, or Summer was still around, that I could give you ... you know. Family. More than just me and Ruby and Qrow."

"Still no news on your mother?"

Yang shook her head against Blake's neck before pulling back, giving that smile she always did when trying to hide how much the old abandonment still hurt. "Not since we last spoke. And don't tell me you can't miss what you never had, 'cause we both know that's bullshit. I want to give you more. Give you the big family I had growing up."

Blake slid her hands around Yang's waist, fingering the edge of the golden silk and blinking innocently from behind smoky lashes. "You really want to have that conversation _now_?"

The blonde needed a second to process that, her eyes narrowing in confusion before panic turned them the size of dinner plates. "Oh. _Oh._ No! No, I mean ... we should, eventually, for like, each other's expectations and ... stuff, but we don't need to ..." she trailed off at the smirk slipping across Blake's face. "You're making fun of me."

"Someone has to." The darker woman smiled, patting her girlfriend's hand before fixing the cloak. "We _should_ talk about that. Eventually."

"Yeah. After we finish with the whole 'on the run from hitmen' thing. I don't think I scheduled any more assassination attempts till next winter."

Blake snorted at the gallows humor, checking the straps that held her weapon in place. Better to spend the time double-checking than not have the blade ready when she needed it. Plus, it gave her hands something to do that didn't involve tracing along Yang's abs.

Giving her one last kiss on the cheek, Yang moved towards the door. "I'm gonna go grab Ruby. We'll stash Crescent Rose somewhere. You make sure Weiss gets down there in one piece.

"Yang?" Blake said softly. The blonde turned back, one hand on the door. "Spoilers? I think ... I'd like to have kids, someday."

Her goddess beamed, her violet eyes sparkling. "It'll be a short talk then. So would I."

* * *

The guests were just starting to trickle into the house when Yang and Ruby finished duck-taping her scythe beneath one of the tables. Crawling out from beneath the tablecloth, the older sister tossed the steel-gray roll over her shoulder, landing in the hands of a bewildered waiter. Together, the sisters moved towards the side of the hall, planting themselves by one of the frost-covered windows.

The room was disturbingly tall, the arched ceiling looming over the assembled guests. Glass-and-silver chandeliers dangled like knives, waiting to fall on anyone foolish enough to stand beneath them. It was a room designed to intimidate, not entertain, although the blue and silver decorations fought valiantly to add a splash of life to the stark white marble walls. An orchestra sat at the rear, framed by azure streamers and playing a particularly bland concerto. Yang couldn't help but admire the staff for all their work, even if the inoffensive chiming reminded her of homicide-inducing hold music. It had to take a herculean effort to keep the room completely spotless, and she had a feeling Schnee would never accept anything less.

Winter had brought her A-game. The incoming crowd stepped through the doors, flanked on both sides by Schnee security, to find their hostess welcoming them with open arms. Her stark white dress uniform with its many medals flashed as she greeted each newcomer, congratulating their choice in costume and thanking them for their contribution. There was handshaking, and hugging. Occasionally even polite kisses on cheeks, all of it with a frivolity that made the gestures still seem completely and lifelessly impersonal. Within minutes, the room had filled with early-party chatter among the various gods and villains and heroes, empty talk wafting through the room as the guests began to clump.

Yang detested it. She hated the non-conversations, carefully crafted bullshit designed to be as inoffensive and dull as possible. A few of the more heavily-painted women had gathered to gossip over mild scandals from some previous event, two middle-aged men by the hors d'œuvres debated the merits of various firearms (recreational ones, of course), a mixed group of attendees with costumes from a very diverse selection of nations and eras formed an odd pantheon, arguing politely over composers that Yang barely recognized – and that was just the conversations she could make out through the mind-numbing, soul-crushing chatter.

She plucked a champagne flute off a passing tray, letting the bubbles tickle across her tongue before downing half of it in one go. She might be spending the night in relative sobriety, but that didn't mean she couldn't use a little pick-me-up. Especially at the beginning. Plus, the alcohol would work through her system by the time the party became somewhat tolerable.

"Why are we here, again?" Ruby asked, already uncomfortable.

"Because anyone who reads gossip mags knows that the Schnee heir is coming. If _your_ girlfriend is here, whoever's after _mine_ can bet she's here too. Probably."

Well, they'd better. After all this waiting, if _nothing_ happened ... _I can't believe I'm actually hoping somebody tries to kill my girlfriend._

"Okay, but why did _I_ have to come?"

"'Cause you look cute." Yang dodged as her sister's elbow went for her ribs, grinning while Ruby fiddled with the neck of her dress. "In case something happens, I'd rather have you here than hiding back in your room."

"I could watch from the roof. Or one of the towers. Cover you guys with Crescent Rose. Be all snipery. I'm _great_ at snipery."

"Yeah, the horde of bodyguards would _totally_ be cool with a rooftop gunman." Yang said, watching as her sister wilted under the sarcasm. "Sorry sis. I don't like this either. And yes, a firefight _would_ be a lot more fun than listening to this crap all night long."

Yang was about to flag down another tray-laden waiter, when a ripple pulsed through the room, mindless conversations dying in its wake. Following the eyes of the crowd, Yang looked up to the main staircase, beaming as she nudged her sister.

"Ruby, you'll be fine. Plus, I think your date just showed."

Weiss stepped down to the foot of the staircase, Blake's swirling robes close on her heels, a silent shadow behind the heiress. The dress Ruby gave her sparkled as it hugged Weiss' sides. The skintight sheath strained just slightly with each step, her slender legs flashing through the high slit. She'd added to it, of course. Ermine hung from her shoulders and a thin silver crown rested on her brow, but at the costume's heart was Ruby's gift.

The Ice Queen took her last step from the staircase and glanced across the half-filled room, her gaze freezing the pointless words in gossiping throats, silence following in her wake as she made her way through the hall. Royalty was in her spine and the tilt of her chin, her ice-blue eyes cold and calculating. Weiss wore power in a way the rest of them never could - there was no need to demand the attention of her subjects. It was her birthright, a simple fact of life that she, unfeeling and uncaring, would not even deign to notice.

Then she saw Ruby, and light blue eyes lit as they stared into gunmetal gray. The princess smiled, and the blizzard that had frozen the room was banished as she beamed. She looked proud and bashful all at once, the ice melting away as she strode over to the wide-eyed girl with fumbling fingers and an open jaw. Doing her best to hide her grin, Yang stepped aside, winking at Blake in silent laughter as they watched their teammates.

"Hello, Ruby," Weiss said.

"H-hi." The two stood, both waiting for the other to speak, Yang doing her best to hold in her laughter.

"Your dress is very cute on you." Weiss smiled again, reaching up to fix Ruby's necklace, resettling the silver cross along its chain.

"Thanks. You look ... g-good."

"You like it?" The heiress looked down at her dress, one hand running along her hip as she stroked the fabric.

The younger girl blushed a brilliant red, valiantly trying to string three words together. "It's really ... something." Glancing around, her eyes fell on a passing platter, lighting with relief as she moved for the rapidly exiting champagne. "I'm gonna go ... grab the thing with the ... bubbles." Stumbling, Ruby managed to slip away, nearly plowing into a passing waiter before she dodged his plate of hors d'œuvres.

Yang nodded approvingly, golf-clapping as she sidled up next to her friend. "You melted my sister's brain."

Despite her best efforts, a smile crept across Weiss' mouth. "Is that a complaint?"

"Nope. Not after you won me a hundred lien."

The smile vanished. Weiss turned to scowl at Yang, the Ice Queen's rage returned in full. "Really. You _bet_ on your sister's dating life?"

"Course not. I know a sucker's bet when I see it. I put money on you two falling for each other and then taking _fucking years_ to actually do anything about it."

Yang ignored the other girl's wince and downed the rest of her drink. Handing more flutes of the fizzy wine to her teammates, she grinned, seeing the slightly rueful look on Blake's face. Yang had been one of the few to actually make money off of the infamously unlucky WhiteRose pool.

Weiss looked down at the clear drink, absently swirling it in her glass. "So, you're okay with this?"

The blonde shrugged. It was kinda late in the game to ask her opinion, even if she _was_ totally on board with the idea. Plus, it wasn't like Weiss needed her permission to date her sister. "I trust you, Weiss. Believe me, if I didn't, you wouldn't be with her."

Blake cleared her throat. "She's a full-grown huntress, Yang. She's capable of making her own choices."

"Now? Sure. But I'll always be her big sister. Ruby's obsession with weapons wasn't the only thing that kept her from dating much at Beacon. There was an _intense_ review process."

"... you really spent three years terrifying anyone who liked your sister?" Weiss asked. Blake snorted – she'd helped with a few of Yang's more devilish plans over the years.

"Only a few, and I just made it real clear there'd be ... 'consequences' if Ruby got hurt."

It had been pretty fun too. Not that often – Ruby had only really dated a few times – but she'd still gotten to use _all_ her dad's old tricks, and unlike him, she had no problem using them on Ruby's one or two female dates. Nothing like blood-red eyes and a fake severed head to make sure they kept their hands to themselves. She could still remember one boy's screaming. Good times.

Her big-sister senses tingling, Yang looked over to find a white-haired woman in military dress making her way towards Ruby, before passing the younger girl a glass and leaning in to chat. "Speaking of sisters, I'm not sure I like yours."

"You will, once you get to know her," Weiss said. The heiress set her untouched glass down on the windowsill, crossing her arms as she joined Yang, glancing over at her sister. "She's always been there for me."

Yang gave a particularly non-committal grunt. "I guess."

Her lazy calm evaporated as the color drained from Ruby's face, the younger woman looking up at the elder Schnee in shock. Whatever Winter had said, Ruby was not taking it well, and that was more than enough for Yang. Her eyes began their shift to red, her heart racing in the way it always did when her semblance started up. "S'cuse me for a sec."

"Yang," Weiss grabbed her arm, keeping her from pummeling their hostess' skull through the marble floor. "Be nice. And no violence. It'll ruin our one chance to find who's hunting Blake."

Yang glared over at the woman who had startled her sister, teeth grinding as Ruby made her excuses and wandered off into the crowd. "... how about _threats_ of violence?"

"What did I _just_ say?"


	19. Black Tie - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby has some one-on-one with Winter, Yang contemplates totally spontaneous combustion, and Blake finally discovers a lead. (Redone for plot reasons)

_Two parts champagne and_ _one part cold apéritif. Garnish with black grapes and do not underestimate the champagne._

Ruby stumbled away from the beautiful heiress, just barely resisting the urge to jump Weiss right then and there. Not that it wouldn't be nice – _really really nice –_ but a make-out session probably wasn't the best way to tell the family they were together.

Ducking and dodging the passing guests, she managed to make her way to the buffet, more to escape the crowd and the twirling dancers than from hunger ... at least until she noticed the tower of cookies stacked in the middle of one table. Champagne in one hand and a snickerdoodle in the other, she chanted her mantra in her head, eyes gazing blankly over the passing guests.

_I will not kiss Weiss in public. I will not kiss Weiss in public. I will not kiss Weiss in publ ... ugh._

_I really want to make out with Weiss in public._

Red-streaked hair shook as Ruby pushed the thought from her mind. Public displays were the last thing Weiss needed right now. At least, public displays from _her_. Something like that, especially here. Plus, she needed to make Weiss work for it. Her ... girlfriend needed to get over whatever fears, whatever guilt, whatever was holding her back. _And that won't happen unless I make her work for it. Make_ her _ask. It just happens to suck real hard at the moment._

The losing battle came to a halt as a hand brushed her shoulder. Nearly jumping out of her skin, Ruby whirled around, looking up at the white-haired woman standing at her elbow. Ice-blue eyes stared back, glinting from beneath her bangs.

"Hello, Ruby. Even sleeping in the same house, we've barely seen each other." Narrow lips twisted as Winter smiled down at her, one hand sweeping a stray curl from her face.

The girl in red nodded, and took a sip of her drink. Any excuse to keep from answering.

The party already had her on edge; talking with Weiss' sister was _not_ going to help. There was just something about Winter, something that always made her nervous. Maybe it was just her height and the whole military-serious vibe she had going on. The few times they'd talked were strained at best – Winter wasn't the most interested in the technical side of weapons design. Plus, Ruby always felt like the older woman was sizing her up.

"So," Winter started gamely, apparently determined to try some sort of conversation. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"The food's nice." _See, I can totally handle a polite conversation, and we haven't even had to talk about the weather yet._

The taller woman snorted quietly, glancing down at the half-eaten snickerdoodle. "I'll make sure to tell the caterers."

"So ... did you want to talk about something?"

"Nothing specific. You're my sister's partner, but we've never really had a chance to talk." Winter paused for a second, apparently looking for a suitable topic of conversation. "I don't suppose you have a secret passion for troop movements? Any interest in politics?"

"Yeah ... I still don't get why we call them kingdoms when we don't actually have kings."

"Tradition. Plus, 'kingdom' is more respectable than 'loosely connected areas of safety surrounded by desolate wilderness.'"

"Vacuo has desolate _wasteland_. Makes for a nice change." _Aww yeah. All hail Ruby Rose, segue master._

"How is Vacuo lately? I haven't been there since school."

"Hot. Really hot. Like this ... dry heat that hits you and just ... dries stuff." _And there goes the weather. So much for being awesome at polite conversation._ The brunette petered out, the silence ringing over the clamor of the party as Ruby wracked her brain for something, _anything_ , she could possibly talk about with the heiress.

"Well," Winter started, Ruby sighing with relief as the burden of conversation slipped from her shoulders. "At least it's nice to have someone so _honest_ here tonight."

"What d'you mean?" the younger woman asked, tongue shoving cookie chunks to the side of her mouth.

Winter's head cocked to the side, taking a moment before her eyes widened in understanding. "I forget this is your first 'Event.'" Ruby could hear the capital letter. Something about the word made it sound like it required an ice-carved swan holding court atop the buffet.

"Everyone here is aiming to further some sort of agenda. A promotion, a prime contract. They all want something. These parties just give them a battlefield where they can fight over it."

"If that's the only reason anyone comes, why do it at all?"

Ice-blue eyes blinked, flickering with what Ruby really hoped was amusement. "It's expected. A bored aristocrat with nothing to do? Half simply self-destruct, and that ends with a broken body after a climbing accident, a sinking yacht, or a glossy page in a tabloid about your latest overdose. Few people from our social class decide to become huntresses, Ruby. The more stable half pretends to care about clean water and whatever disease is popular this season. So they sponsor the right causes, come to the parties, dance at the galas, and indulge in their little petty revenges." Glancing into the crowd, Winter bobbed her head towards one of the chatting clumps. "Here, see that woman? The one in the blue crêpe de chine?"

"... oh. Yeah. _That_ one," the huntress lied, dutifully searching the crowd for someone dressed as a blueberry breakfast crêpe.

"The storm god over there just took her spot as the head of Atlas Orchestra's board of directors. I'd bet anything that she's trying to rally support to take the chair back." Winter glanced down at Ruby's blank face. "Sorry. You don't really seem the type for petty gossip."

"You seem to like it."

"I'm not the biggest fan of these sort of events, but I understand they're a necessary evil. I might was well enjoy them. It's the best version of people watching. Like trapping a school of piranhas in a fish tank."

Under Winter's piercing eyes, Ruby listened to her rundown on the dancing guests, vapid socialites, and desperate party crashers. Actually, it was kind of fun. Winter's running commentary was scathing, even ripping, but the barbs lacked just enough bite to make the snark playful, instead of merely cruel. Ruby nodded and laughed, slightly surprised to find herself warming to the older woman. Winter might be a little tightly wound – military life would probably do that to you – but she seemed nice enough.

"You're with Weiss, right?"

The brunette nearly did a spit take, half-choking on her drink. There was _no_ way Winter could know. They'd been careful. _Really_ careful. They hadn't even gone into each other's rooms after that first night, just in case a maid saw them crossing the halls.

"Sorry, I don't-"

"Her partner?" Winter gave her a worried glance until Ruby stopped coughing.

"Yup. Me and Weiss. That's us. Teammates. Totally best teammates ever." _Smooth, Ruby. Real smooth._

The older woman nodded absently, her eyes still not leaving the ebbing crowd. "Does she enjoy being a huntress?"

Ruby took her time before answering. Talking about Weiss, and to her _sister?_ It wasn't really ... that'd be weird, right? She really didn't want to come between the two of them. Still, Winter did seem ... concerned? That was good, right?

She settled for the truth, just nothing personal. The kind of stuff Winter could have gotten from asking anyone who knew Weiss. "She thinks, 'cause she's a Schnee, that she has to ... to be responsible for people. To protect them. But yeah, I think she likes it – when we're not getting splattered by Grimm guts." Glancing over, she tried to read the dark-haired woman's face, waiting for something to flicker from behind her painted mask. "If you really want to know, why don't you just ask her?"

"It probably won't surprise you that she can be a little stubborn." Winter sniffed in derision, her arms crossing as she turned to put her back to the slowly twirling dancers. "Is she a good partner?"

_Now that's something I can answer._

"Weiss is the best teammate I will _ever_ have."

Another bout of quiet nodding, as if she'd only half-heard the huntress. She seemed almost ... lost. Ruby couldn't help but wonder: what had happened between Weiss and Winter to make them like this? Could she and Yang have turned out like them, barely speaking, not even able to look the other in the eye without a verbal fencing match?

Winter's words were quiet, but even under the roar of the party, her alto rang clear. "If she's happy, don't let her stop."

"... sorry?"

"Ruby, I have never known a member of our family who could resist ... obsession. This place, this family, it has a habit of sucking people in, of holding on and refusing to let them go. Scan back through the family a few decades, and you'll have a hard time finding a Schnee without some mad fixation." Winter downed the last of her bubbly drink, a busboy appearing out of nowhere to switch the now-empty glass for a full one. The heiress took the glass almost automatically, as if the only logical consequence of an empty drink was a new one appearing in its place.

"The first Schnee, the one who built this house, demanded it be perfect, completely symmetrical, _exactly_ the same in every dimension. Dear however-many-greats grandfather threw the first architect off the roof when he found out the North wing was a few centimeters too long. His grandnephew executed half his men during the Great War for 'daring to question his orders'. Then he got himself killed trying to take a fort he just _had_ to have, long after the rest of the army had moved on."

Winter let out a sigh and turned to look down at the younger girl. "Our mother transformed a lagging corporation into an economic powerhouse second-to-none, and all she and Father had to do was purge the company and our extended family of anything even remotely considered weakness."

A shadow crossed over her face, an unconscious flicker she couldn't quite control. The untouched flute raised to her mouth, the too-red lips somehow managing to avoid leaving stains on the crystal.

"Unless you want to lose your friend, don't let the company get its hooks too deep into her. Or at least try to keep in touch." She seemed about to say more, before ice-blue eyes widened and Winter twisted to the side, suddenly very interested in one waltzing couple. "Don't look up. Looks like Raleigh's arranging another hunting trip. Make eye contact and he'll hound you until you agree to waste a weekend firing shotguns into thin air."

"We'll be okay. I mean, I see her every day. Which one is he?" Ruby blinked, looking for the easy way out. Anything to get away from whatever _that_ had been.

"Red brocade with the flat cap that looks horrible on him." The elder Schnee glanced down at the brunette. "Don't tell me Weiss didn't tell you." Winter paused, waiting for the question to cause some epiphany. When nothing came, the dark woman looked more confused, if anything – as if it wasn't possible for the huntress not to know.

"Tell me what?"

"Ruby ... she's leaving your team."

Whatever was left of the cookie turned to ash in Ruby's stomach, the champagne melting into bile. She couldn't believe her ears. Weiss – her partner, the Ice Queen of Beacon, the girl who'd watched her back so many times, _her_ Weiss – was _leaving_? Leaving _her_? It didn't make sense. It _couldn't_ make sense. And why did her chest _hurt_ so much?

Winter was still talking, a light chattering Ruby only half-heard. "We _are_ talking about my sister here, but still ... she really never told you? Father's been grooming her for the position for months now."

_Months? This whole time, Weiss has ... wait. 'Grooming'?_

"So, like, your dad arranged it?" _Yeah. That could make sense. That's totally a thing he'd do. He still wants her in the company, where he can keep an eye on her. It's not like Weiss would actually want to leave. She just hasn't told him no yet._

"Actually, it was her suggestion." The second arrow lodged in Ruby's heart as she listened, the words sounding lifeless and empty to her ears. "Father wasn't particularly thrilled, but she kept pushing. Finally proved herself with that subsidiary she set up. The winery, I thin-"

"I need to use the bathroom." Ruby couldn't remember putting down her drink. Her hands were empty, straightening her dress as she walked away. She needed to talk to Weiss. She _had_ to talk to Weiss.

* * *

Yang watched as her sister pushed through the crowd, clumsy feet stepping on more than a few unlucky toes. She watched as Winter stared after the girl, her brows furrowing once Ruby was out of sight.

Knuckles clenched so hard they cracked, Yang stalked across the dance floor, forcing the sea of confused guests to part before her. Eyes drawn to the movement, Winter turned, smirk widening at the sight of the blonde her.

"Wanna tell me why my sister looks like you stabbed her?" Yang kept her voice low. She'd promised Weiss. No scene. No violence. Least not till after the party.

"You can blame _my_ sister for that." Winter said dryly, bringing her champagne flute back to her lips. "Apparently, Weiss didn't tell Ruby about her new corporate job. Seems to have struck a nerve."

Yang blinked. A job? Since when did ... whatever. She trusted Weiss. She trusted her friend. _And if she broke that trust, I'll break her face._

A good blow to the jaw was out, even if the older woman deserved it. She settled for sarcasm. "Can't imagine why. But I'm betting you just _hated_ bringing it up."

"She has a right to know. Were my sister anyone else, _I'd_ want them to know their girlfriend was leaving her," the hostess said, her calm grating on the last remnants of Yang's quickly vanishing patience. _Wait, did she just say 'girlfriend'?_

Winter caught Yang's glare mid-sip. "What? Was that supposed to be secret? Our sisters aren't exactly subtle," she shrugged, managing a smirk despite the champagne flute on her lips. "I am honestly trying to help."

"Yeah, you're just the sister of the year."

"Excuse me?"

"Look, whatever weird tough-love relationship you've got with your sister is your business," Yang snapped. "But you're not pulling that crap with _mine._ "

"Miss Rose is a grown woman. I doubt she needs overprotective relatives standing up for her."

"Maybe. But I'm her big sister. It's my job." the blonde shrugged, fists still clenched. "Guess I'm not surprised you don't get that."

Winter froze, the glass raised halfway to her mouth. Lowering it, she looked over at Yang, eyes completely cold. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"From the way Weiss talks about him, your dad's at least emotionally abusive. We'll throw manipulative in there too." Yang's eyes were red, heat raging through the ends of her hair, warming her skin beneath her costume. "So, props to you for getting out of there, joining the military, slipping out of his clutches, all that. But you _left_ her with him."

Yang's knuckles clenched. She could still remember the look on Weiss' face when she'd told them about her father all those years ago. "You left her with that bastard. And that's unforgivable."

The elder Schnee daughter went stiff as Yang glared at her. Slowly, deliberately, she set her glass down on the table and straightened her uniform. "Enjoy the party, Miss Long."

"How much you wanna bet Weiss wouldn't have that scar if you'd protected her?"

That stopped Winter in her tracks. Slowly, she turned to face Yang, her back straight with military precision. She was still smiling, but it was a smile that could cut steel – forced lines of politeness so sharp they looked ready to tear her face in two.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Her voice never rose above a quiet murmur from behind clenched teeth.

"Maybe. Like I said, what's between you and Weiss is between you and Weiss." Yang stepped forward, until the two women were standing face to face. "But you pull this crap with _my_ sister again, and I won't be as forgiving as uncle Qrow."

"I hope you realize you're threatening a military officer."

"Don't care. You go after my sister again, it won't be a nice little discussion. It won't be a warning, and it won't be a threat. I'll blast you with so much heat your blood will boil in your veins. I will _melt_ you. 'Cause I can do that."

* * *

Weiss glanced after the blonde, desperately trying to see through the crowd. Cursing her height, she tried to find a better position, jockeying among the dancers. It was a struggle not to simply fire off a few sigils – an ice storm would definitely clear the room of guests, and with much less violence than if Yang lost her temper.

Not that she thought Yang would assault her sister in full view of Atlas' rich and famous ...

Fine. There was a _chance_ that Yang _might_ assault her sister in full view of Atlas' rich and famous. The blonde wasn't known for her patience. Or restraint. Especially not when it came to protecting the people she cared about.

Something bumped her side, and she looked up just in time to dodge the return swing of a paper-mâché head whose owner was too intoxicated to mind his movements. Then she saw what the man was wearing, and her blade was halfway out of its sheath before she caught herself. The four-eyed red-and-white mask simply looked like a Grimm, some misshapen version of what _might_ have been intended as a Taijitu.

Forcing down a rant about appropriate costumes, she slid Myrtenaster back into place, and took a breath to calm her nerves. She shouldn't be surprised someone had the poor taste to come as a Grimm. He probably hadn't ever seen so much as a Beowulf in person. Much less a Taijitu.

Distracted by the costume, a second someone blindsided her without warning. A hand grabbed onto her arm as the two fought to keep their balance. A red doublet tangled with her shawl, the two teetering back and forth until stability finally returned. Weiss was about to snap at the oaf – remind him of just _who_ his stupidity had run him into – when the cap tilted, doe-brown eyes gleaming out from beneath blond bangs.

"Weiss, is that you?"

"Raleigh?" she blinked, fighting to contain her surprise. "It's ... good to see you." _It'd be better if you waited a few minutes._ She could just barely make out the top of Yang's head over the crowd, at least until a swarm of happy gossipers blocked her view.

"You too. I almost didn't believe it when I heard you were coming."

 _Neither did I,_ she thought, cursing silently as the blonde hair vanished."Alton, I would like to catch up, but I really-"

"And who is this lovely young lady, Ralls?"

Weiss bit back a growl of frustration. A long-winded introduction to some puffed-up plutocrat was the last thing she needed. Holding tight to her temper, she nodded as politely as she could, giving up hope of finding Yang in the sea of people.

Raleigh took a step back, making room for the newcomer to slip through the crush of people. "Weiss, might I introduce the Marquis Lutin Verdir."

Weiss looked the man over and had to fight not to roll her eyes.

He was young for a landed aristocrat, brown hair just messy enough to be considered stylish, not sloppy. Deep, mossy robes swirled around him, the gold embroidery on the edges just barely falling short of ostentatious, though not by much, in her opinion. It was an odd costume, ancient Vacuan formal robes not unlike the ones Norman had found for Blake. But his cowl was tossed back, and the longcoat was cut for silhouette and style, not any sense of historical accuracy.

She sighed. He was probably the type to claim it was 'just some old thing' that had 'happened to be lying around.' _Wonderful. A vain and self-important, puffed-up plutocrat. Just perfect._

The heiress bowed her head an inch, just enough to qualify as appropriately polite. The sooner this finished, the sooner she could untangle Yang's hands from her sister's throat. "Welcome to our home, Marquis."

He returned the gesture, careful that his was both deeper and lasted slightly longer than hers. He might have a title, but it was nothing next to the might of the Schnee family. "Oh, I couldn't bear to miss one of your father's parties. The antics of the usual sycophants are _so_ entertaining."

Weiss could feel her scowl coming back. He _would_ be one of the 'ironic' attendees. The oh-so-superior ones, here just for the pleasure of looking down on the participants. And, of course, he was _still_ talking.

"... hear you're quite the skilled huntress, Miss Schnee. Don't suppose you would join us for a shoot? A real hunter would be a nice change from the usual fops that flock to these things. Unless you object to blood sport, of course."

"It would have to depend on the prey." Weiss said coolly, her eyes darting back into the crowd. There hadn't been any explosions, or screams of outrage, so maybe Yang had kept her word. For now, at least. Still, she really shouldn't push her luck when it came to blonde's temper.

"Pheasant, apparently." _I_ _s he_ still _talking about hunting?_

"I appreciate the offer, but I find it rather bad taste when the birds can't fight back." She smiled, the bland little one she reserved for just such an occasion. "My usual targets tend to be a little more ... aggressive."

"You might be surprised. These particular birds have a very dangerous reputation. I hear one even bit a beater last time. Nearly took off his arm. Nasty little thing."

She was about to ask what kind of pheasant had a bite that deep, when a hand gripped her arm. Ready to eviscerate whichever idiot was bothering her, she turned, and found gray eyes staring down at her beneath red-streaked bangs.

"Ruby, are you alright? What did Winter say?"

"... nothing. Just gossip about the guests." The denial would have told Weiss something was wrong, even if she hadn't seen Ruby stumble away from Winter. Their fearless leader was not, by any definition, a good liar. Especially not against someone like Weiss, who wrote the damn book when it came to hiding her emotions.

Whatever else Verdir was, at least he had a shred of tact. The man was already bowing, insisting that he needed to thank their hostess. Within seconds, he was gone, vanishing into the heart of the ballroom.

Unfortunately, Raleigh lacked the Marquis' instincts. Leveling an expression far too weak to be called a glare, he straightened his spine, attempting to loom over the brunette. It might have worked, if he hadn't been less than an inch taller.

"If you don't mind my asking," he huffed. "Who might you be?"

_Dammit Raleigh, I don't need you here. Just leave._

"This is Ruby. My part-" Weiss stopped, as an idea came to her. She dropped her voice – the last thing she needed was anyone else overhearing, but there was no point hiding what Ruby meant to her. Alton could be trusted to be discreet.

"My date." Her nerves made it sound like a question. Swallowing, she glanced over at Ruby, and waited for her reaction.

Granted, she hadn't expected squeals of joy, although it wouldn't surprise her coming from the younger woman. A smile would have been nice, some sign Ruby actually liked her saying they were together. Instead, the younger woman just blinked, eyes a little wide, looking almost like Weiss had slapped her.

All of which was completely lost on Alton. The blonde young man blinked, before his face burst into a cheek-splitting grin.

"Well it's about damn time." With boyish exuberance, Raleigh grasped Ruby's hand, pumping it twice before letting her go. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ruby, I'm Alton Raleigh."

"... okay," the younger woman limply shook the offered hand, tearing her eyes from Weiss to stare blankly at the young aristocrat.

At least Raleigh didn't seem to mind Ruby being distracted. "Well, I really should catch up with the Marquis. Can't have him wandering about on his own. Who knows who he'd invite to the hunt. Please do catch me up later, though. I would love to see what kind of girl it took to finally catch the elusive Weiss Schnee." Then he stepped back into the press of people, smiling one more airheaded grin.

Slipping her hand into Ruby's, Weiss squeezed, feeling her warmth just under the skin. "Are you sure you're okay? Winter can be a little-"

"I'm fine." Ruby pulled her hand from Weiss', looking thoroughly uncomfortable. "Let's just ... let's get through tonight. Okay? We find whoever's after Blake and we go home."

"I can get behind that idea," a familiar voice drawled from behind them.

Yang had returned, her golden gown looking no worse for wear, with no singe marks or burn trails that Weiss could see. That was a good sign. She doubted Yang could keep the dress _completely_ intact if she went supernova.

"You're not on fire. Tell me you didn't murder my sister."

"Not yet," Yang grimaced, muscles rippling under her dress as she fidgeted. "Figured I'd wait till the guests went home."

Weiss was about to ask why, when a ripple traveled through the room. One by one, the guests hushed as the rear doors to the hall swung open. They'd been shut tight – a barrier to keep the guests corralled into the ballroom – but Morden Schnee had never followed the rules he set for others. The Schnee patriarch stood in the doorway, a pale silhouette against the outside lights. He marched into the room, the tails of his dress coat flapping around his legs, gray eyes glinting as he surveyed those brazen enough to dare enter his domain.

He had not deigned to follow the party's theme. There was no heavenly costume for Morden Schnee, no hastily compiled outfit or bespoke disguise. For why would a man who thought himself an earthly god play at being a false one? He was resplendent in white and gray, a splash of silver in his Steinkirk cravat, a matching waistcoat snugly buttoned with sapphires. No one would mistake Schnee for one of the guests, for some foppish aristocrat in fancy dress. No one else had eyes that cold, lustrous and glinting, lacking even a hint of emotion. There was no mistaking her father. Even across the room, she could feel his eyes on her, scanning across the crowd, unfeeling in their judgment.

"Dun dun dun. Duhn-da-dun. Duhn-da-dun."

"Yang," Weiss warned before anyone else could hear her whisper. The blonde grinned, but she stopped the quiet theme, putting her back to the incoming titan.

"Come on, we all know how this works. It's either that or some downtrodden girl has to fall in love the moment he walks in. That one requires actual singing, and I don't see your father carrying a tune."

"You are physically incapable of taking this seriously, aren't you?"

She shrugged, waves of silk rippling as she moved. "I'll get serious if the guys hunting Blake bother to show up." Yang glanced around, looking over the assembled heads. "Speaking of, where is she?"

"She was here just a second a ... dammit Blake."

* * *

"Evening, Detective."

The man in the jade robes came to a halt, messy brown hair flicking as he turned, looking down the otherwise empty hall at the dark figure lounging in the shadows. Blake stepped out from her hidden corner, hands concealed beneath the folds of her cloak.

The young man smiled, giving a little half bow as she started forward. "Sorry. Didn't realize you were talking to me. Marquis Verdir, at your service." She said nothing, gold eyes watching unblinkingly for any sign of movement.

His smile wavered, each step she took leaving him just a bit more nervous. "Oh, imagine that. Seems we both went Vacuan for the costumes. Well, at least we have different color schemes, otherwise one of us would have to chan-"

Blake flicked her cloak aside, already drawing the Gambol from her back. Metal rang as the blade scraped along the scabbard's throat.

"You know, why don't I go switch this out? I'm sure I can find something else to wear. It looks _much_ better on you anywa-"

He'd barely made it a foot before one black-clad arm slammed him against the wall, the other jamming the barrel of her scythe against his side. Vardon struggled, trying to buck the Faunus off of him as he. She followed the movement, forcing him back, shifting until her forearm pushed up and into his throat, the barrel of her gun grinding into his spleen.

"You have ten seconds, Vardon. Where. Is. He?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't know, I have a few other projects on top of this one that I cycle between - I'm moving onto a chapter for Vigilante next, with Yang as the titular vigilante (gonna go punch some dirtbags).
> 
> If there's a story you like, please go ahead and ask for more - reception and comments are what tell me which ones people have an interest in. If you can, please take a moment to shoot out a review, even an anonymous one - they're very helpful in letting me see what readers liked and what they didn't, and I really appreciate critiques


	20. Death in the Afternoon - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss has a discussion with her father, and Blake tries to finally get some answers.

" _Pour one jigger absinthe into a Champagne glass. Add iced Champagne until it attains the proper opalescent milkiness. Drink three to five of these slowly."_

– _Ernest Hemmingway_

The party continued as Weiss looked on, the guests slowly swarming the Schnee CEO like ants to a carcass. It was always a little disturbing to see her father like this - handling the room like an expert. The man was perfectly pleasant, working through the steady stream of guests, all shaking hands and calm smiles as he filled the air with empty promises. They'd make a run to the back nine in a month, they really did need to have that scotch one of these days, empty laughter at a joke that was neither funny nor truly meant to be.

Then those eyes landed on her, and Weiss forced down a shudder. She would not allow that man to see how she felt. She would not let him see how she much wanted to be anywhere but here, looking at anyone but him. She would not let herself to turn back into the terrified little girl who wanted nothing more than to hide, and she would _not_ let him become the tower of rage and disapproval that she remembered.

His gaze met hers and she glared right back, ice blue burning into stone-cold gray.

One word from him, and the most of the crowd began to slink back, heading to the buffet or the dance floor, aware that their chance for an audience had ended. Pulling away from the last of his hangers-on, Morden Schnee made his way towards them, eyes locked on his daughter.

"Weiss." One brief nod. Just enough to recognize her existence.

"Father."

Gold hair bobbed in her periphery as Yang looked back and forth between them, her brow creased in confusion.

"So ... we doing introductions, or are you two in more of a staring contest kind of mood?"

_Dammit, Yang._

One eyebrow twitched, but her father's gaze stayed on Weiss, his public face as stony and impassive as always.

"A word. My office, five minutes."

And that was it. Morden Schnee passed her by, turning back to his elder daughter's guests, bottled promises of scotch and golf back on his lips. He shook hands when offered, all nods and quiet words that somehow still cut through music and the chatter. To anyone else, he probably sounded appropriately neutral, if a bit stern.

But Weiss knew a command when she heard one.

"I need to go deal with this," she sighed, giving Ruby one last look. Whatever Winter said, it had clearly rattled the young woman, even if she didn't want to admit it. Weiss wanted to ask – she _should_ ask, she was probably _supposed_ to ask – but now wasn't the right time.

Yang nodded, glaring after Morden as he left the room. "I'll go look for Blake. If we're lucky, she's off hassling the caterers about how there's no tuna in the buffet. Sis, you stay here in case she comes back, 'kay?"

As she turned to leave, Weiss squeezed Ruby's hand one more time, angling her head to stare up at the younger woman.

"We just have to get through tonight, okay? Just tonight. Then we're done, with all of this, and we go home. I promise."

* * *

Ruby let her hand fall from Weiss' grip as the heiress turned away. She settled back into the corner, watching Weiss stalk off after her father while Yang peered over the crowd, searching for her girlfriend.

Satisfied that their attention was elsewhere, Ruby let herself slump against the wall, hidden from prying eyes by a tinsel-covered houseplant that reached to the ceiling.

Or so she thought.

"Why, hello there. Don't suppose you know where Weiss ran off to?" Growling a little at whoever had decided to bother her, Ruby opened her eyes to find Alton smiling politely as he picked at the decorated plant.

"She's talking to her dad."

"Ah. That is ... not a conversation I want to interrupt." Alton's face fell for just a moment, but then he was turning back to her, perky smile back on his face. "If you don't mind my asking, however did you two meet? Weiss and I don't talk all that much lately."

"It's ... complicated."

"Congratulations. You've found the one word that will always describe Her Highness." The smile widened, the wry note in his voice starting to fade. "I'm bored. I have time to listen."

"We met at Beacon, I guess. I ran into her, and then I kinda ... exploded." She almost smiled at the memory, a younger Weiss scowling and scattering dust everywhere. At the time, she'd been mortified. But looking back, Weiss has always been cute when she got angry.

"Well, it is a unique little meet-cute. Love at first detonation."

"I guess." They'd come a long way since then – even if Weiss still yelled at her occasionally, even if Blake still had her anti-social moods, and even if Yang still wouldn't stop her awful puns. It had taken some time, but they were a _team_ , they'd decided they always wanted to work as a _team_. Weiss had been all for it when they decided to stick together after graduation.

"She wouldn't leave, right? I mean, she hates this house."

Raleigh blinked, apparently caught off-guard by the sudden switch in topic. "Well, I wouldn't know pre-"

"Which would mean Winter was lying _–_ but that doesn't sound like how Weiss describes her, and she seemed pretty concerned when we talked but I don't know how well you know Winte- wait. How well _do_ you know Winter?"

"I mean, we've met, but-" he stammered, before Ruby drowned him out.

"And if she _is_ leaving, can I really just ask her to stay? I mean she has to have like tons of people relying on her, so can I really make her pick between us and everyone who works at her company?"

"I-I don't-"

"And if she left, I mean, I'd miss her, but we could still see each other, even if we didn't always work together, so it wouldn't be _that_ bad – unless she wouldn't want to see me and ... plus, this didn't start right, and it took us years to admit that we liked each other and when we did, she thought I wasn't interested. Then I thought I'd gotten drunk and come onto her and she was freaked out about it, but really, she started everything and thought I didn't remember, and then I told her that I knew, and she admitted everything, so I was mad at her, which freaked both of us out, and now it's like she's scared of even getting close to me, and it's just so-"

"Complicated?" Raleigh held up one hand, pleading for her to stop, the other trying to rub away his headache.

"… complicated," Ruby nodded.

She watched as Weiss' friend kept rubbing at his temples. "I'm not sure what I can do about ... whatever that last part was."

Ruby shrugged. "I just don't know what to do _if_ she leaves. I mean, I could keep working with Yang and Blake, but she's my partner. We work well together. I-I don't want to lose that."

"If you want to keep working together, I'm sure Weiss could find you a job at the company with her," he said.

"... I don't have any idea how to help run a business."

"Neither do a majority of young executives, but I'll concede the point." Raleigh shrugged and turned away from the party. "Can I make a suggestion? Talk to her. It sounds like that would have solved some of your problems … from what I could make out."

Ruby rolled her eyes, arms crossing as she gave the taller man the most skeptical look she could. "Have you ever tried 'talking' to Weiss Schnee?"

* * *

"So ... I'm guessing that strongly insisting that I'm not this 'Vardon' won't get me very far," the 'Marquis' ground through gritted teeth, his stomach starting to suck in, trying to pull away from the barrel against his side.

Blake glared, resisting the urge to just shoot him and be done with it. "Not after your accent started slipping. Seven seconds."

"Well, that happens when there's pistol jammed into your diaphragm." The weak attempt at humor fizzled and died, helped by the barrel pushing into his side. "Come on, Belladonna. I'm unarmed."

"I'm not," she snapped. "Four seconds. Where is he?"

"Schnee? Back in the ballr-"

"Not Schnee. Where's Adam? Two."

"Your dead ex-boyfriend?" Chestnut brows raised as Vardon's head cocked to the side. "Did you check his grave? I mean, you did help bury him in it."

"One," she finished, her finger on the trigger.

"Okay, okay, watch the spleen. Look, if the body's missing, I'd be more than happy to look for it. I'll even give you the friends-and-family ra-"

"Adam's alive," Blake said.

Vardon blinked, his face a mix of confusion and outright disbelief. "... kaaaay. Unless a Schnee competitor has a new miracle drug, I'm _pretty_ sure he's dead, and dead people don't get better. Especially after you bury them in a nice pine-wood box with a gaping chest wound."

"I _saw_ him-"

"And normally I wouldn't disagree with the nice lady jamming a gun between my ribs, but that's kinda how the brain works. You see something, hear something, smell something and pop! Here comes a memory. Hell, I thought I saw an ex-girlfriend in a crowd yesterday. Scared the shit out of me."

"Adam _is_ alive," she growled. He had to be. It was the only thing that made sense - seeing him in that warehouse, the attack, Vardon appearing to steal evidence and then showing up at same party they were using as a lure. Adam _had_ to be behind this. "I saw him. _He_ sent the hitmen to my apartment. _He_ sent them to silence me _._ "

"From what I've read of Taurus' history, he was more of a 'hands on' kind of guy. Hired killers' weren't really in his wheelhouse. Plus, I kinda figured out who the dude in the mask was." He paused, waiting for something. Blake guessed it was applause.

When none came, he sighed and continued. "Decent string of hits, all with someone wearing that kind of mask. Problem is, the accounts vary. In one place, this guy's around six-foot-two. Another, he's five-nine, so either this guy is the greatest disguise artist of all time-"

"Or it's more than one person," Blake finished, cursing under her breath. "... how do you know about this?"

"I'm a detective, Belladonna, it's what I-"

"You're not. I asked. No one in the city has ever heard of a Detective Vardon."

"Well, I don't work for the police." His hand moved towards his coat, and stopped when Blake jabbed the Gambol into his ribs. "Really? Still not gonna ... fine. Inside coat pocket."

Wary for any sign of movement, Blake reached into the pocket of the longcoat, her hand wrapping around a slim leather case. Pulling it out, she flicked it open, an oddly official-looking laminated card on one side, the other filled with embossed cards reading ' _Vardon Wight, Licensed Private Investigator.'_ There was even a tacky eye on the card, a stylized green iris over his list of services. Reclamation, Investigation, Loss Prevention, Surveillance Countermeasures ...

"Fun fact," he said. "Marquis Verdir was only born a couple months ago. You'd be surprised what you can do with a skilled hacker who owes you a few favors."

"You're a private eye?"

"The term is 'Licensed Private Investigator,' thank you. I'm not some wise-cracking chain-smoker with an alcohol dependency and three ex-wives. Well," he paused, grinning sheepishly, "... not the alcoholism or the ex-wives."

"Fine," she growled and slammed the leather holder back into his jacket. "Why did the police think you were a huntsman?"

"I flashed a fake license – not that one, obviously – and they waved me on through. 'Course, they were a bit distracted by the bombshell blonde threatening to burn the building down around them if they didn't get out of her way. Good catch, by the way. Smokin' hot."

"Not making me want to shoot you any less. Why were you spying on me?"

"I wasn't ... technically. I got hired by the Schnee trust. Apparently the old men in suits are wonderin' when the little princess is gonna come demolish their empire. I just followed Schnee to the crime scene and figured I might as well take a look."

Slowly, Vardon levered himself off the wall, waiting to see if she would slam him back against the molding. When she didn't, the man in green slid out from beneath her pistol, dusting off the shoulders of his robes. "Now, we can stand here and bicker about who allegedly impersonated an officer, or we could do the smart thing and go ransack the Dark Lord's office while he's out."

"Not interested." Blake's free hand came up as she shifted into a weaver stance, keeping her pistol trained on Vardon's chest. Even if he was telling the truth, there was no reason she should just let him go. Either he was involved, or he knew something he wasn't telling her.

"Even if he's the one who ordered the hit on you?"

Blake froze. _Could it really be that simple?_

"Why would my friend's father try to kill me?" she asked, already running through half-a-dozen answers in her head, the least of which was Schnee's well-documented prejudice against Faunus.

"You piss off anyone else with insanely deep pockets and no conscience to speak of?" Vardon paused, apparently waiting for an answer. When she didn't give one, he shrugged.

"Okay. Current theory. The White Fang, his mortal enemies, the bane of his existence, get almost completely dismantled in the last couple years. But he still knows about one ... turns out she's the same one who allegedly pulled off one of the largest train heists in recorded history. Props for that by the way. Even worse, that 'terrorist' now works with his daughter, who _could_ depose him pretty much whenever she wants. I doubt a man with _that_ ego could see an old enemy and a rival together and not assume that they were plotting against him."

Vardon turned back to her, still pacing as he spoke. "Even worse, his daughter's been slipping in the odd pro-Faunus stance whenever she can. I'd say he has a pretty good idea that her management style and his don't mix. Least when it comes to the Faunus. He can't have that."

"So he calls a friend, a colleague, someone who's 'gotten' things for him before, someone he knows can handle something like this. He puts out a hit on you and your girlfriend, planning to have you framed for her death. If he plays his cards right, he uses you being a Faunus to turn Weiss back to the good ol' anti-Faunus hatred." Vardon grinned, flashing teeth making her skin crawl. "Kinda poetic, really. Revenge on the last White Fang member, and he stabilizes his power base as a bonus."

"That's ... a pretty terrible theory," Blake said, pistol still aimed at the detective. "Daytime soap-opera levels of terrible."

"Yeah, because 'my evil ex-boyfriend came back from the dead and hired an international assassin to kill me' makes _so_ much more sense."

Straightening, he flicked the edges of his coat back and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Why do you think I'm here? I don't go undercover in a house surrounded by armed security for my health. Look, we go in while the party has all the guards distraacted, get into his computer, get a look at any hard copies he has lying around ... who knows? Maybe we'll get lucky and find _Hitmen 'R' Us_ gives out receipts." He grinned, looking like a kid in an evil candy store at the thought of ransacking Schnee's office. "Come on. It'll be _fun._ "

"You and I have very different definitions of 'fun'," she said, lowering her gun to her side.

"Look, it's enlightened self-interest. One way or another, I doubt the advisers running Weiss' trust are gonna be controlling SDC much longer, and the younger Schnee seems a lot less likely to want me shot and buried out in Forever Fall than her papa," he shrugged. "I just want to be on the winning team."

Blake's eyes narrowed. "And if Morden offered you a better deal?"

"I don't have anywhere near enough insurance to make that remotely safe. Plus, I doubt having four pissed off huntresses on my tail would be much better for my continued well-being." He stopped for a second, weighing his options. "It would have to be a _really_ good deal. Or at least pretty damn hilarious."

"... fine. You're in the front." Blake said, resigned to having no good options. Well, apart from shooting him and then burning the house down with Schnee and his guests inside - which was starting to look a lot more tempting. Pity Yang wasn't here – she'd be happy to burn this place to the ground, ideally using Vardon's body for kindling.

"Perfect," the detective grinned, bouncing twice on his heels before slipping quietly down the hall. After another internal argument over the morality of large-scale arson, Blake begrudgingly followed the supposed detective, the two silent shadows wisping past closed doors and a small museum's worth of art.

 _At least he's good at being quiet, as long as his mouth is shut,_ she thought, reluctantly admitting that the man did seem to know what he was doing. Mostly.

Rounding a corner, she nearly bumped into a green-cloaked back, halting just in time to bring her pistol up between them.

"Really? Again?" Vardon whispered before pulling out a suspiciously familiar scroll. "Sorry. Just remembered I had your scroll on me. There wasn't anything usable on it, by the way."

"... why would you still have this?" She heard a squeak as Vardon hit another loose floorboard.

"I was gonna slip it back to you at the party," he said, gingerly stepping aside so Blake could move around the weakened section. "What? I'm a jackass, not a complete asshole. It's not like I-"

"Stop," she snapped, her hand waving him back.

"Why? Come on, you can't still be mad about-"

Blake silenced him with a look, then turned back to the hall. Even through the thick wooden doors, she could still hear raised voices – one deep with gravel, the other high-pitched and just a bit shrill.

She'd recognize that voice anywhere.

* * *

"Get rid of it."

He didn't even look up when Weiss came in, eyes still locked on the file in his hand, a glass half-full of scotch balanced between his thumb and forefinger. She wasn't surprised. Her father had never spared more than a second for her, issuing his edicts before diving back into his monomaniacal obsession with his company. She took a breath, ready to deal with him, ready to acquiesce to whatever insane demand he was making. Anything to get him off her back long enough for them to finish this. Or ...

Or she could revel in the fact that she no longer cared. That after four years away, she was done shrinking away every time her father yelled.

Who would ... Yang. Yang would piss him off the most. _What would Yang do?_

Weiss cleared her throat, remembering the twang the blonde put in her voice when she felt like being truly annoying. "Hello, father. _So_ nice to see you. Winter really did an excellent job prepping for the party, didn't she?" Damn, this was more difficult than Yang made it look. "I suppose it would be too much trouble to have you explain what 'it' is. Was one of the canapés not to your liking? Or did the music offend your delicate sensibili-"

"Enough," he snapped, his eyes finally coming up to meet hers, childhood terror clawing at her insides. She ignored it, holding onto her anger at the man she could barely call a father. She'd wanted to annoy, and it had worked. Now all she had to do was drive that splinter just a little deeper.

Morden's eyes dropped back to the report before him. "That _thing_ you brought to my house. I saw it skulking around when I came in. Send it upstairs, throw it in a cab – I don't care what you do, but I will not have you disgrace this family by bringing your mangy _pet_ out in public **.** "

Weiss could feel the nails digging into her palms before she realized her fists were clenched. Forcing her teeth to stop grinding, she worked her increasingly tight jaw until she was sure she could keep her anger from boiling out into her voice.

"That _woman_ is my friend."

"I don't have time to deal with your foolishness, Weiss."

"Make. Time."

Slate-colored eyes spared her a single glance before returning to his work. "Your 'friend' is a mongrel you took in off the street. _It_ is a criminal, just like each and every one of those thieving psychopaths, and like them, needs to be put down." He took another swig of scotch and went back to scanning the pages in front of him. "Why you haven't done so already escapes me, but I assume she must be of _some_ use."

"Or, it could simply be that killing people for no good reason is _wrong ..._ dad." Weiss allowed herself a bit of vindictive pleasure, seeing the spec of rage flash in her father's eyes. He _hated_ being called 'dad.' Granted, it was small and petty and ultimately accomplished nothing, other than making him more difficult to deal with, but still ... the small revenges still felt good. "Either way, the White Fang are gone. They're dead or in prison, posing no danger to anyone, except for an old man who can't accept that _his daughter_ solved a threat that he caused, while-"

She fought the urge to flinch as her father's report slammed into the table. Slowly, deliberately, her father rose from behind his desk, straightening until he loomed over her. Cursing her height, she raised her chin in defiance, glaring right back into the cold fury that burned in his normally expressionless face.

"You solved _nothing._ You accomplished _nothing_. Vale is still filled with those creatures, and now," he spat, flicking the report he'd been reading towards her, the papers scattering as they slammed into her chest. "Now I have to deal with 'inquiries' over our hiring practices. The 'living conditions' of our miners. That, I could handle but I refuse to allow my failure of a daughter to continue placing half-breeds in positions they are wholly unsuited for, just to assuage some idiotic sense of guilt."

Weiss tasted blood, her teeth piercing the side of her mouth as she fought to hold back her temper. "I'm not the one whose constant, systematic abuses helped inspire a terrorist organization." The worst part? She'd been like him once, had blamed his behavior, his actions, on the Faunus who'd fought against him. "This mess you're in? It's _yours._ Despite what you've told me for most of my life, between the two of us, _I'm_ not the failure."

The look her father gave her was enough to curl her toes. "You abandoned your responsibilities to the family, to the _company_ , and ran off to join an outdated society barely capable of keeping the peace, never mind actually reclaiming our land from those freaks. You traded your duty, your family, for a mere fantasy. Of course you failed at that as well, spending your training as the subordinate of a _child_. True Schnees," he said, his face terrible in scorn and rage, "Do not follow. They lead. Now, you might be able to overlook that particular failure, but how many huntresses remain with a team after graduating? How many are incapable of standing on their own?"

"You want to see me stand on my own?" In her anger, Weiss couldn't resist a bit of a smile. It was heady, knowing she could finally make her father eat his words. "I'm meeting with the firm on Monday. It's time I accepted my inheritance. In a week, I'll be the majority shareholder of the Schnee Dust Corporation. Let's see how your empire handles when you're not the one at the helm."

She waited for the anger, the rage. For thrown glasses and bellows that tore at her ears. It would be nothing she hadn't heard before, the screams of fury that echoed down the halls whenever her father got the latest news about the guerrilla war against the White Fang. She had won, had finally used the one thing he had dreaded since her mother died, and she would smile as his whole world fell down around him.

It never came.

There were no screams, no shouts, no hurled bottles. After everything she'd learned from a lifetime dealing with his rage and frustration, he did ... nothing. Instead, an odd calm settled over her father's face, the barest flicker of a smirk teasing the side of his mouth as he settled back in his chair. Fingers steepled, he looked her over, suppressed rage narrowed to a look of calculation, weighing her value and – as always – finding her wanting.

"I would understand this foolishness if you were at least sleeping with the cat; I've been told that some people have a kink for half-breeds," he said. "But it seems you decided to go the 'classic' route." He looked her up and down, as a snear twisted his lips. "Weiss Schnee, opening her legs and whoring herself to her captain. Your mother would be rolling in her grave if she saw just how mediocre you turned out. How fortunate she died before you could disappoint her any more."

"You-"

He cut her off, eyes flashing with the shadows of storm clouds on the horizon, promising retribution if she dared interrupt him again. "I have played this game since before you were born, child. You are an amateur, convinced that you can kick the old king off his throne." There was no kindness in the smile he gave her, just pure, calculated cruelty. "I promise you one thing, Weiss. You will not survive a war with me."

* * *

"Well. That was awkward." Vardon quipped, folding against the wall as Weiss stormed past. Blake watched her go, wondering if she should follow, try to ... no. Morden Schnee was here, and no matter what he'd said to Weiss, he needed to be dealt with _now._

It seemed Vardon had come to the same conclusion. Reaching back, the detective whipped his hood over his face, the soft cloth flowing until it hid his features from view. A few notes hummed from his throat, the tone lowering until it was an octave lower than his normal speaking voice.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Getting in character," he growled, his voice suddenly a lot more gravelly. " _You_ might be fine committing grand-theft-dust with no disguise, but some of us actually care if we get caught."

Blake shrugged, one hand rubbing along the outside of her bow. Her mind made up, she reached for the end, pulling until the ribbon came loose, sliding away to reveal her tufted ears.

"Oh, yes. By all means, make your identity even _more_ obvious," Vardon said, his hands scrabbling inside his robes.

The Faunus shook her head, feeling the air on her ears again. She'd gotten used to not wearing her ribbon, but it still felt like freedom every time she took the damn thing off. "I want him to see _me._ "

He shrugged. "It's your funeral." Finally, he managed to get whatever it was free, and whispered a quiet 'ah-ha.' He pulled his robes aside, revealing two armguards resting in his hands, a cut-away version of the same basic model used by most close-combat fighters.

A nod, and the two moved for the door in a maelstrom of dark robes and glinting weapons, the Gambol's blade catching the dimmed lights. They pressed against the outside wall, Blake stalling Vardon with her hand as she heard Schnee speaking.

"Then change the plan. Do it now, and perhaps I'll forgive your earlier failure with the half-breed," the voice growled, before the unmistakable sound of a receiver being slammed down leaked into the hall.

Vardon tapped her shoulder, fingers splayed as he mimed a phone call with one hand. She nodded, her grip tightening on her blade. The detective had been right about one thing, at least – it _had_ been Schnee behind her attackers.

Probably. She couldn't be the only Faunus the man might want dead. Didn't help his case any though.

Taking a breath to calm her nerves, Blake slipped into the room, cocking her pistol.

"A little bird said you wanted me out of the public eye."

The Schnee patriarch turned in his chair to face her, and Blake half-expected to find him stroking a cat in his lap as he glowered malevolently up at her. To his credit, Morden Schnee didn't need the ominous pet. His uncaring gray eyes marked him for what he was, his utter lack of empathy plain on his face.

For a moment, the two just stared at each other, Blake waiting for a move that never came. She expected him to go for a weapon, dodge out of her line of sight, some defensive movement to put _something_ between him and her pistol. It was what she would do, gambling that her reflexes were faster than the gunman's. But Morden just sat there, his head angled as he stared at her, as if trying to solve a particularly vexing puzzle.

"You got him?" Vardon growled and poked his head through the doorway, still stuck in his faked baritone. One look at the fuming patriarch and he joined her in the room. "Course you do. I'll handle the computer."

Blake gestured with the barrel of her pistol, waving Schnee up and over until he moved away from his desk. Once he was out of arm's reach, Vardon bounced into the chair, plugging his scroll into the machine.

"Go right ahead," Morden said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I hired the best company available to set up my security. If you really want to waste what little time you have left-"

"I'm in," Vardon grinned, his voice dropping into an overly dramatic bass. "Always love saying that – and for a guy hiring assassins, your system could really use an overhaul."

"What are you looking for?" Blake asked, keeping one eye on Weiss' sociopathic father.

"His finances," the detective answered without looking up. "Unless he has a stash of secret cash lying around, he has to have some record, if only to cover his tracks when accounting season comes around. If I can find the money trail, hopefully I can follow it to whoever he's using to pay his hitmen."

The room settled into an almost deathly quiet, the silence only broken by Vardon's tapping on the keyboard. Blake kept her weapon trained on her friend's father, but Morden seemed content to stand and watch, occasionally glancing from Blake to the robed man in his chair, his eyes the only sign of the anger hidden beneath his expressionless mask.

"Why?" She asked, watching his face, looking for some reaction.

Morden didn't answer, his eyes still boring a hole in the side of Vardon's hood.

"I asked you a question."

The corporate executive turned his glare on her, looking like a man forced to address a cockroach. "Excuse me?"

"Why? Why try to kill your daughter's teammate? Why any of this?"

"I have no idea what you're insinuating, but if I have to hazard a guess," Morden paused, letting his denial of guilt settle before he continued. "I imagine there is rather long list who would want vengeance on a member of the White Fang."

The words spat from his mouth, the hatred clear in his voice. "You can't be foolish enough to believe that your crimes would stay secret. That no one would connect an apprentice huntress with the Mad Bull's former lieutenant."

Blake cringed. Annoyance mixed with shame as it fed the pit of rage roiling in her stomach every time Morden opened his mouth. She hated it, hated the reaction that just mentioning Adam caused her. But this wasn't the time; there would be time after this was over, time with Yang, where they could work through this. Some of it, anyway.

She shook her head. "Just because you do it legally, it doesn't make what you do–"

"Do you know what happened to the last man who threatened me?" Morden cut her off, ignoring the gun still pointed at his chest. "I am very much looking forward to seeing you again. Perhaps I'll even invite the blonde to join us. I hear she gets stronger the more injured she is. With some trial and error, I'm sure a motivated party could find where her breaking point is-"

"On that happy note," Vardon cut in before Morden could finish asking for an early execution. "I found it ... I think."

"You're not sure?" Blake asked, the gun still trained on her target.

"I found a half-million lien transfer through multiple corporate accounts and what looks like four or five shell corporations, ending in an unnamed account in Vacuo. I mean, it _could_ just be run-of-the-mill embezzlement, but it went through right before the attack on you," Vardon said, looking up at her over the monitor. "If I can connect the account to another contract kill, I can–oh shit."

"What?"

"We need to get back to the party. Now."

"Why?"

Vardon was already ripping his scroll away from the computer, shoving it into his coat as he made for the door. "He just made a second payment, from the same discretionary fund, to the same account in Vacuo." Even under the hood, Blake could see his face had gone shock-white. "Guess you're not the only one Papa Schnee wants dead."

* * *

Ruby was still in her corner when Weiss returned to the ballroom, absently watching the party. There was no sign of Blake . Either Yang had found her or ...

No, Yang would find her. _Or tear the house to pieces until she does._

Weiss passed the ceiling-high windows, the light flickering out onto the snow-covered lawn, shadows dancing as the swirling crowd of guests blocked the light. The band had picked up the tempo in Morden's absence, and the revelers twirled and spun while the tired and the uninterested ringed the floor.

Dodging a few particularly eager dancers, she managed to make her way over to her partner, her hand closing around the other woman's wrist. Ruby jumped at the contact, but to Weiss' relief, she didn't pull away, letting Weiss drag her back towards the entrance.

"We should leave. Now," Weiss said, pushing through the crowd as best she could.

"But, Blake ..."

"It's a large house. Yang might not have found her yet, or ..."

"Or they're already dealing with her attackers." Ruby set in her heels, halting them right in front of the bay windows. They were right on the edge of the dance floor, perpetually in the way for any pairs that found themselves pushed to the outskirts. "Weiss, I need to say somethi-"

The heiress cut her off; they didn't have time for this. "Ruby, I promise we'll talk about whatever you need to, just not _now_. Please. We need to-"

"Weiss, it has to be now." When the older girl didn't interrupt, Ruby nodded, swallowing nervously. "I just wanted to say, that ... it doesn't matter if we're not together … as a team," she added hastily. "Not 'together' together, that totally matters, but if you need to do something else or ..."

Ruby sighed and shook her head, as if it would help her nerves, or at least make whatever she was trying to say vaguely understandable. "If you need to deal with your company, I want to help. If you'll let me."

"Ruby, I-"

The window shattered.

Something punched into her chest, sending her sprawling on the marble floor as her head slammed painfully against the ground. Weiss heard Ruby scream, followed by others as the sounds blurred together in an incoherent babble of panic. Weiss tried to move, tried to push herself off the ground, but her arms refused to budge. It was a struggle even to breathe. _Why is it hard to breathe?_

_Oh._

There wasn't much pain. She supposed she should be grateful for that. Just an intense sense of ... numbness. Like her body had been cut off from her. _Shock_ , she thought, some small part of her brain that wasn't paralyzed from the bullet that had ripped through her.

"Come on, Weiss. Stay with me." Someone was shaking her. Ruby, probably. A weight pressed against her chest – someone trying to stop the bleeding.

"Ruby..." Her voice was weaker than she remembered it. She tried again, but her lungs couldn't muster more than a whisper.

"Weiss," the younger girl smiled through her tears. "Come on, just stay with me. Please."

"I need ..." she managed, before her voice gave out again. _Dammit._ She _had_ to say it, had to ...

Everything was fuzzy. She couldn't focus; her eyes kept drifting shut, opening only when Ruby shook her.

"It's okay. You're gonna be okay. They're getting an ambulance. You're gonna be okay, Weiss, just hold on. Please, just a little longer."

"I love you, you dolt," Weiss managed when Ruby took a breath. "I love you."

 _Just in time_ , she thought, as the darkness took her.


	21. What's Blood For If Not For Shedding? - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Yang look for the sniper in the wake of Weiss' shooting.

_Three parts red curacao, coffee liqueur, and tequila. One part absinthe and tabasco in equal measure. Definitely an acquired taste._

No one was ever sure who said it first, or the exact phrasing, or if it was just a universal response that screamed in everyone's head. Still, each guest heard it once disbelief began to fade, replaced with the crushing dread of almost-certain death. When asked later, the stories differed, every witness crediting someone else with realizing the danger, of warning the others. But that was to be expected, and after the second round shattered through fractured glass and buried itself in a walnut-shaded credenza, the message was painfully clear:

Get. Down.

The first shot – the one that sent Weiss sprawling on the marble floor – was followed by stunned silence. The second bullet set off the screaming. Well-dressed revelers scattered to-and-fro, the gullible ones confusing concealment with cover as they hid behind heavy furniture and upturned tables. The less cool-headed crowded around the exits, mulling about in a mad dash to escape. The band had long since stopped playing, the tuxedoed members pushing and shoving their way through the crush of people. Their instruments sat abandoned, left behind in the flight to escape whatever madman was shooting up the gallery. One musician still cowered behind his cello, panic convincing him that the thin polished wood could protect him from a sniper's bullet.

Amid the chaos sat one young woman, red streaks lighting her bob of dark hair, perfectly still as she cradled her partner's head in her arms. She seemed oblivious to the chaos, hands pressed tightly over the woman's wound, silent pleas slipping from her lips. A slow rhythm of shots spat into the room around her, sending shards of glass and chips of lacquered wood scattering to the floor. Eventually, one of the scattered shots came too close, streaking past the red-dressed girl before burying itself in the opposite wall. Eyes unfocused, Ruby raised her head, and watched as yet another round shattered another floor-to-ceiling window, bladed glass raining down on the shrieking crowd. Her eyes went from the point of impact to the gaping hole where the bullet had lodged itself into the thick wood panels, then glanced back out onto the snow-covered grounds. Then an odd, painful calm settled over her face.

Moving so fast she blurred, the girl in the red dress bolted for one of the half-collapsed tables, one wooden leg blown away by the sniper's bullet. A ripping sound filled the space between two shots, the duct tape that held her weapon shredding as she pulled. With one smooth action, she drew back the bolt of the rifle, sighted down the barrel, calculations running in her head, and fired. The sound of the shot echoed in the room, drowning out the frantic sounds of fleeing guests. Ruby fired again, and again, three shots in quick succession, each one whipping out across the snow-covered grounds.

The firing ceased, both from the girl in the red dress and the assassin outside, the creeping silence almost deafening after gunfire and falling glass. Ruby let her rifle fall to her side, reappearing in a burst of petals back across the room, trying in vain to stem the flow of blood seeping from Weiss' chest.

* * *

Blake bolted out of the doorway with Vardon hot on her heels, the two pausing only to hogtie the Schnee patriarch to his office chair with cables yanked from the computer. She was halfway down the hall when she heard the shot, the unmistakable shatter-slam of a round blasting through glass and wood, followed by the screams of panicked guests. Legs pumping, she rounded the corner, slipping past the well-armed security flooding in from the outer grounds. Ignoring the shouts to stop and identify herself, she headed straight for the ballroom, feet skidding on the hardwood as she ran. She saw the chaos at the main doors at a distance, packs of fleeing guests colliding with private security trying to reach their clients. Turning on a dime, the Faunus woman dived for the servants' corridor. Ignoring the cowering wait staff, she bolted for the unblocked service entrance.

Sliding around the side of a waiting buffet cart, she drew her Shroud, firing round after round at the deadbolt before kicking square in the center of the double doors. The dark-paneled wood shattered beneath her foot, shards of oak and chunks of bullet-warped brass going every which way. The broken remains opened onto renewed screams of desperate guests, changing to cries of hope as half the crowd peeled off to head for this new avenue of escape.

Elbowing guests aside, Blake fought her way through, her patience wearing thinner every time another stampeding dilettante slammed into her. Resisting the urge to fire her weapon, she struggled through, coming out to gaze in horror at the ruined gallery.

Winter air chilled the once-warm room, sweeping in through the shattered windows. Glass lay strewn across the marble floor, the shards cracked further where stomping heels and patent-leather toes had cracked them. In the far back of the room, a space not touched by rampaging feet and panicked guests, sat Ruby, hunched over a petite body in an ice-blue dress. Red washed over her hands, pressed desperately against the hole in Weiss' chest, glowing with her aura as she tried to stem the bleeding.

Blake froze, the chill creeping through her veins as she stared down at her teammates. _It was supposed to be me_ , she thought, staggering over to the two slumped women. _I was the one playing the bait._

"Ruby?"

The younger girl looked up, and Blake's heart seized. The terror on Ruby's face was awful, her eyes wide with shock, staring up as if waiting for Blake to say that this was a joke, that it was just some horribly thought-out prank. She wanted to hold the younger woman and pat her head and say it would be alright, but ... but she very much doubted it _was_ going to be alright.

Blake settled for crouching on the heiress' other side, relief mixing with her fear as Weiss' chest shook, then rose and fell. There was no hissing when Weiss breathed, no sign the round had pierced her lung. _Small favors,_ she thought, reaching out to pull Ruby's hands away from the wound and grimacing at the sight. It didn't look good. Luckily – _pretty low bar for what counts as luck right now_ _–_ it looked like the bullet went straight through, punching through flesh and muscle rather than ricocheting around inside ...

She blinked. Her hands were shaking, her breath coming in short bursts. _Not the time for this,_ she thought and forced the panic aside. Moving quickly, Blake pressed Ruby's hands back over the wound as firmly as she dared. Ruby's aura would help stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down long enough for the paramedics to arrive.

A hand tapped her shoulder. Blake looked up to find Vardon, his face somber. "Someone should call-"

"Already did." Ruby cut him off. Her voice was tight and raspy, fear flickering across her face every time Weiss' shallow breathing slowed. The younger woman didn't even turn her head, her eyes locked on Weiss' face. "Blake, whoever did this, they ... I think I hit them, but they're still out there." Her eyes flicked up to the broken window for just for a second, looking out across the grounds to the grove of trees cresting the rise of a hill.

Blake nodded. Standing, she tightened her grip on the Gambol Shroud, and turned to the shattered window.

The rear wall chose that moment to explode.

Dust and debris sprayed into the room. As the guests recovered from their latest heart attack, a tall, blonde woman in a flowing silk costume stepped through a hole the size of a small car, smoke trickling up from two wrist-mounted gauntlets. Golden hair streamed behind her, flames flickering behind her eyes.

Unlike the Faunus, Yang hadn't bothered finding a door. She strode into the room, relief washing over her face at the sight of Blake standing unharmed, then went pale when she saw Weiss' body lying on the ground. Yang moved forward, hesitant steps taking her closer to the body as the red drained from her eyes.

"Yang," Blake caught her arm as she passed. The brawler jerked feebly, too shocked to do more than twitch against the Faunus' grip. "There's nothing we can do. Paramedics are coming, but the guy who did this, he's still out there."

The blonde stopped moving, gears turning in her head, acceptance that there wasn't anything to do for Weiss _right now_ shifting into the realization that there was someone she needed to _hurt._

"Where?"

"Your ten o'clock. Hill with the trees." Blake didn't need to say it twice. Yang bolted for the window, leaping over jagged glass teeth to land on the veranda, blasts firing from her gauntlets as she charged for the hill.

A little metallic sound clicked from her side, the telltale sound of rounds being chambered. Vardon stood there, checking the ammo in his arm-guards.

Seeing Blake's look, he shrugged. "I'm coming too."

"Vardon-"

The detective cut her off with a wave of his hand. "He's less likely to hit any of us if he's firing at three targets. I can do more out there than I can in here."

Blake tried to ignore the sound of her teeth grinding. She didn't have the attention to waste on Vardon while dodging gunfire. It would be bad enough trying to avoid the sniper's sights, she really didn't need to worry about getting shot in the back as well.

Either way, they didn't have time for this. Yang needed back-up and Weiss was already on borrowed time. _I'll just have to settle for keeping an eye on him_. "Stay ahead of me and don't leave my line of sight."

The detective gave a salute too relaxed to pass muster in any military. "Ma'am, yes ma'am."

True to his word, the detective tore off towards the broken window. Blake's ears twitched as Vardon tightened his hands around the handles of his bracers, pushing some unseen trigger. Triangular blades shot out of the arm-guards: wide, flat edges that ended a good twelve inches past his knuckles. The katars swung, knocking a few jagged blades of glass out of his way, and Blake ran out of the ballroom right behind him, the two tearing off after Yang towards the grove of trees.

It was a matter of minutes to make it to the treeline, Yang slowing slightly, falling back to let Blake pass her. Even in her rage, she knew Blake had better eyes in the moonlight. Faunus genes let her see far better at night than the average human. Not that it did her any good. Even to Blake, the estate grounds were one long expanse of white, broken by sharp dark lines of trees, bones branches reaching up towards the moonlit sky. There was no sign of the sniper, no footprints or broken branches where he'd walked, and for a moment, Blake was afraid they might be too late.

She sensed the shot before she heard it, air currents pressing on her aura as the slug whipped through the trees. She moved to dodge, but Yang was already there, letting the massive slug slam into her gauntlets, the crash-pop of the concussion echoing through the forest as metal flattened against metal. The force of the shot threw her back down the incline, feet digging deep gouges in the snow

Blake didn't waste the chance the blonde had given her, darting from tree to tree as she bolted for the source of the shots. Another round hurtled towards her, and this time, Yang was too far back to help.

Not that she needed it.

The bullet tore through the Faunus' chest, shredding her abandoned shadow as Blake slammed into the nearest tree, catching her breath behind the trunk. That was too close. The closer she got to the gunman, the shorter distance the bullet would have to travel. With that high-caliber a rifle, the window in which she could dodge just kept getting smaller. She guessed within twenty, thirty feet, she wouldn't get the chance to use her shadows at all.

Heavy breathing came from the tree on her right. Vardon was there, panting beneath his Vacuan costume, hunched down and hoping not to get shot.

"How long do you need to pull off that clone trick?" he asked, flinching as another slug ripped through a tree barely a foot away.

"Too long. When we get close to him, I won't dodge in time."

The detective raised one katar. "Need covering fire?"

"Where? We know he's ahead, but he has to be shifting position every couple shots."

"I can keep him busy. Let you roll around the side and flank him."

"There's no cover. These trees aren't stopping his rounds."

"Your teammate said she tagged him and his reload time is ridiculously long." Vardon smiled, too-white teeth flashing the grin of the deranged or extremely cocky. "Come on, all I have to do is annoy some guy with a gun pointed at my head. I was _born_ for this job."

Still grinning, the detective stepped out from behind his tree, barrels of his gun-katars raised and firing towards the sniper. It was too far; the bullets thudded harmlessly into trees or ran themselves into the hillside before ever reaching their intended target. But it seemed enough to grab the sniper's attention. After a second, Vardon slipped behind another set of oaks, ducking down just before another sniper round cracked through the trunk above his head. Aiming around the side, he fired blindly, darting back and forth between the trees and hoping it would be enough to keep the shooter from knowing exactly where he was.

Blake didn't waste the opportunity. Vardon couldn't hold him off forever – it was just a matter of time before one of the shots plowed through a tree trunk and found their mark. Yang would be coming up behind them, and if anyone could flush the shooter out, it was her. Blake needed to be in position when that happened. She bolted for the tree line, putting Vardon's useless taunts and wild shots behind her. She emerged from the forest a few seconds later, darting between trees and trying to keep her profile low. All this work would be for nothing if the gunman caught a glimpse of her and decided that she was the greater threat. Staying as far behind the snowbanks as she could, she snuck across the grounds, just another dark shadow against the snow. The otherwise silent night echoed with the sound of gunfire, the rhythmic pat-pat-pat of Vardon's pistols and the small explosions from the sniper.

It was only a few seconds before she found him, rifle propped against a fallen tree. The sniper fired, his massive gun jumping as the bullet flew down towards Yang. Red coated his left shoulder – Ruby _had_ hit him after all. It explained why he'd missed as much as he had; with something that big, taking fast shots without adequate time to aim, there was only so much you could do in the way of accuracy. Especially with one wounded arm.

The sound of the bolt being drawn back echoed over the snow. Still crouched behind the snowbank, Blake sighted down the barrel of her pistol, let out one long breath, and fired.

The shot slammed into the man's side, knocking the rifle off its support. Not wasting a moment, Blake charged forward, blades extended and ready. She was on him in seconds, sword and sheath stabbing down towards his chest, only for the sniper to roll aside, collapsing his rifle's braces as he rose. Whipping around out of the snowbank, Blake saw the familiar gunmetal gray mask beneath his knit cap, the metal covering his mouth and nose glinting in the dim light. For an instant, she thought it might be the same man. That this was the same specter than attacked her in her home. Then he stood, rising out of the snow drift like a B-movie monster.

The nearly seven-foot tall titan towered over her, weapon extending with a flick of his wrist. A massive spear sat in his hands, one side forming the rifle's fluted barrel, the other ending in a broad bladed tip. Spinning away, the sniper whipped the pointed butt of his weapon towards the Faunus, aiming the barrel back behind him and fired. He flew across the snow-strewn ground, his feet barely brushing the snow as he hurtled towards her. Blake dodged, both blades parrying the thrust aside. She twirled with the momentum, but her blades only hit air as the large man barreled past.

She turned, ready to follow, to keep up the pursuit, only to see him grind the bladed end of his spear into the ground. His arms strained against the massive spear, then held, inertia whipping his body around the polearm like a slingshot. He came back at her, feet lashing out in a kick to her head. Blake ducked, body brushing against the ground as she stepped to the side, flipping her sheath into a back-handed grip before slicing upwards at the sniper.

Her reinforced edge met the steel shaft as he blocked, polearm flipping in his hands as he knocked her attack aside. The motion brought the other end down, the spade-like point angled right for her neck. The spear hit, paused, then jerked forward as it ripped through her copy. Blake was already moving, her blade slicing for his thighs, one cut moving into the next as she danced around him. The whirling polearm met flashing blades again and again, each of her attacks deflected away, each of his cutting through empty air or another shadow.

She ducked another swing of the blunt rifle barrel, stepping up and away as he tried to hook her foot with the other end. Ejecting the spent magazine, she slammed another into the butt of her weapon. She closed on her opponent, her weight settled behind her swords. It was time to end this.

Blake went for another feint, forcing herself to slow just a hair as her sword darted out towards his neck, finger already on the trigger. He saw it coming and took the opening, his spear knocking it aside before turning to a long thrust that ran the bladed head right through her chest and stopped, quivering, as it pierced through her back.

The sniper pulled away, ready to rip the massive spear out of her, and jerked to a halt. The spear was stuck, caught halfway in the ice-copy she'd left behind, the dust rounds trapping the weapon within her frozen clone.

"Checkmate," Blake whispered and brought her blades down.

He fired, the round whipping past her as his whole body leapt forward, the force of the shot shattering the ice and hurling him back across the snow. He landed on his side and rolled to his knees, spear tip pointed directly at her heart.

Blake cursed and squeezed the trigger as she moved, the Gambol spraying bullets at her target. He twirled to the side, whipping the shaft of his spear before him, deflecting what bullets he couldn't dodge. Rolling the weapon over in his hands, the spear whipped around to his shoulders, ending with the rifle barrel pointed directly at Blake.

There was no time to dodge, no time to move. This close, the bullet would hit her long before her semblance could activate. It would be her taking the blow, not some clone she left behind. She kept moving, legs straining to close with him quickly enough to knock his spear out of line.

She wasn't fast enough. He fired, the roar of the weapon echoing across the field, pounding in her ears ... and missed. A tree on the edge of the grove split in two, the snow muffling the upper trunk as it fell to the ground.

His shoulder. Ruby's shot – it had ruined his aim. The muscles couldn't compensate for the recoil of firing that powerful weapon without support.

She wasn't giving him a second chance. The sniper was good – he'd have to be to pull this off while wounded – but she'd trained against one of the fastest huntresses in history, and this was a game she _knew._ The snow might be slowing her down, but against someone like this, someone who needed the speed and range for his attacks, she had the upper hand.

He fired again, using the momentum of the blast to carry him into the air, his body tucked behind the spearhead hurtling towards her. Blades crossed, Blake caught his spear between the edges as he charged. Levering it aside with her sword, she freed the sheath, slicing upwards as the assassin flew by.

Red splashed across the frozen ground, seeping from a long, shallow slash across his ribs. The gunman paused at the end of his charge, stumbling for a second before settling back into his combat stance. His aura was gone and he was tiring, but it wasn't over yet.

A bullet whizzed by his ear. Vardon was back, firing hurried potshots as he marched from the tree line. He wasn't too terrible a shot, either. A few of the rounds found their target, even if sniper managed to block them. They were still a distraction, and if that's all the detective for good for, Blake would happily take it. At close range, they had the advantage. That spear was meant to keep distance with an opponent, to hold them back and threaten them with his reach. As soon as they closed, that reach would become a liability. He couldn't parry as fast as either of them, especially not in his condition. He was on the defensive, trying to hold off four fast, darting weapons with the two ends of his spear.

They just needed to get close.

The sniper wasn't giving them the chance. With a chilling click, Vardon's pistols ran out. The detective immediately ejected the mags, gun-katars slamming backwards as he tried to reload his weapons. Sensing the sudden calm, the gunman shifted into his charging stance, his spear-tip aimed right for Blake, the barrel angled back at Vardon's chest.

A string of expletives flashed through Blake's head. The detective wasn't watching for the rifle barrel, he wasn't ready for the shot, and he didn't have a copy to take his place. She'd stop the charge, parry the spear aside. She might even use the opportunity to put the gunman down, to finally get some answers. Why they had attacked her in the first place, why now, why shoot Weiss ... and what dark hole Adam was hiding in. The only cost would be a smarmy private detective who'd already lied to her, stolen from her, and couldn't be trusted as far as she could throw him.

Blake sighed, and switched the Gambol into its chain-scythe. She wasn't that person. She'd left the Fang specifically to avoid becoming that person. It might be easier, or even in her best interests, but she couldn't just let the man die. Eyes narrowed in concentration, Blake pulled back her sickle, and threw.

The Faunus watched as her ribbon wrapped around the rifle barrel, waiting just long enough for the weapon to jerk to a stop. Holding the reinforced cloth in her hands, she yanked, wrenching his weapon to the side. The gunman fired, and the shot went wide, missing Vardon by a yard. The spear jumped in one direction while the sniper's feet tried to move in the other, wrenching against his already injured shoulder.

The unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped hit Blake's ears just before an explosive round slammed into the sniper's back. The blast of fire sent him flying along the ground, scorch marks already singed into his coat. The spear went high, tumbling end-over-end before it landed quivering in the snow, the Shroud's ribbons still wrapped around the barrel.

Blake looked across the snow and saw red eyes, glaring out from beneath blond bangs. Steam poured off of the newly-arrived Yang in torrents, the heat of her semblance turning the snow beneath her to steam.

The sniper rose to his feet and Yang fired again, the bolt of red streaking through the air before slamming into his chest. The giant of a man went flying, crashing against a more solid tree with a sickening crunch, and landed unmoving on the ground.

The three stood in silence for a moment, Yang still steaming, Vardon panting quietly and staring at Blake in what looked like appreciation. Then Yang walked forward – her eyes blazing, hands burning – and jerked the battered and broken gunman to his feet.

"Who hired you?"

Nothing. The sniper just blinked over the top of his mask, hanging limp in Yang's gasp.

"Yang, he-" Blake started, cut off as Yang slammed the man against the tree, his head knocking backwards against the bark.

"WHO?" she yelled. Still nothing. The sniper just hung there, limp and glaring, although his gaze was less focused than it had been a moment before.

"Fine," Yang growled. "Maybe you'll be more talkative without that mask." The gunman finally reacted, his eyes going wide, his head trying to jerk away as Yang reached up and pried her finger tips behind the edge of the hard plastic.

Laughter carried across the snow, a deep chilling metallic laugh, and Blake recognized the same voice that had taunted her in captivity. But it couldn't be. This wasn't the same man. The masks could have some voice modulation system built in, but the laugh would still be different. _Unless_ ...

Blake took another look at the sniper. The laugh, still rattling through the mask, didn't match the rise and fall of the sniper's chest. His panicked struggling lacked the cold amusement she could hear in that voice.

_He isn't the one talking._

The laughing stopped, the speaker clicking off before the voice spoke again. "Mission parameters are fulfilled. You may consider your debt paid in full."

The sniper's eyes went wide as his unbroken hand began clawing at the mask, desperate to pull it off his face. Nails dug into his skin as he scrabbled at his face, trying in vain to find some purchase on the device.

It was too little, too late. A mechanical hiss sounded deep within the metallic wedge, spurring on the sniper's wild flailing. Grabbing Yang's arm, Blake hauled her back, one hand covering her mouth. The man coughed, clawed feebly at his face and throat, then fell limp, eyes wide with shock.

Blake looked at the man she'd just fought, brought down by a shotgun blast to the back. Who just had poison gas pumped down his throat. She stood and stared, waiting to see if she was about to cry or scream. Every time she thought they were close, every time she thought they had a lead, it was snatched away from her.

"Something's not right here."

Blake looked up in time to see Yang twitch, red eyes meeting Vardon's as if seeing him for the first time. For a second they just stared blankly at the detective, before the blonde's head angled to the side, eyes narrowing to slits. " _You_."

Vardon visibly blanched, his handles tightening on the handles of his katars. "Oh good, she remembers me."

"Yang," Blake said, grabbing Yang's shoulder before she broke his jaw. "Later. Please?"

For a second, Blake wondered if Yang had even heard her. After Weiss, and yet another setback, she wouldn't be surprised if Yang simply lost it. Might not even have blamed her. Then the blonde let out a long breath, hands unclenching as she let the Faunus pull her back.

"What's not right?" Blake asked, one cautious hand still resting on Yang's shoulder.

Vardon hesitated, apparently still wondering if he was about to be the next victim of a shotgun gauntlet's explosive round. "The second shot from any marksman is always more accurate. After the first, you get a better idea of the wind conditions, the little imperfections of the rifle, yadda yadda yadda. That first shot took Weiss down. He should have been able to hit anything he wanted."

"But he chose to spray the room with bullets," Blake finished the thought. "So Weiss was the only one he was paid to shoot."

"Sure, but any good sniper would have bugged out long before this."

"Which means each shot after that was just to keep our attention on _him_."

Vardon nodded. "He may have been paid to kill Weiss, but he was working as a distraction for something else."

Bile rose in the back of Blake's throat. There was only one person who would have wanted a distraction after Weiss' shooting. Someone callous and heartless enough to order the assassination of his own daughter. The one person she'd left bound and gagged with his own composite cables.

"Morden."

* * *

By the time the three made it back to the house, most of the guests had already gathered in the drive. Some were being ushered into waiting cars by their security, others sitting under heavy guard, waiting for the flickering red-and-blue lights that could just barely be seen in the distance. Snow had just started to fall, white flakes dusting atop hats and coats, the soft beauty seeming almost disrespectful after...

Blake shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She couldn't get caught up worrying about Weiss. They needed to get their hands on Morden. It was the only thing she could do for her right now.

They ran past the waiting crowd, Yang shooting a worried glance back towards the ballroom before her eyes narrowed, fists clenched as she followed Blake down the hall. Vardon kept his distance, apparently half-convinced Yang might change her mind at any moment. Blake wasn't sure he was wrong. Blake had filled her in on the walk back, and the news that Weiss' own father had called in the hit did little to soothe the blonde's temper.

The hall was still warm, almost stifling after the chill outside, but the door to Morden's office was still shut. Light streamed from the crack beneath the door.

"He's in there," Yang growled, footsteps getting faster as she moved towards the door.

Blake frowned. Something was wrong. The way the light flickered. _More than that_ , she thought, _the heat ..._ "Yang, wait-"

She wasn't listening. "Morden, you sick son of a-"

Fire rushed out of the room as Yang kicked down the door, the inferno spilling out into the hallway. Flames licked at the walls, flickering as the cold air from the hallway battled with the heat inside. Jagged shards of wood jutted out at all angles, broken off by whatever blast had set the room aflame. The heat clawed at Blake's arms, thrown up to shield her face, driving her back away from the blaze. Crackling filled the room, and the hot smoke-filled air carried its scent with it, of burning oak, melting plastic, and something else.

Charred meat.

Immune to the heat, Yang stepped inside the room, charred wood snapping beneath her shoes. Blake followed as far as she could, the heat searing against her skin as she looked into the ruined office. Deep inside, atop a half-melted chair, with the remains of what looked like a power cord wrapped around his ankles, was a corpse.

Morden's features were long gone, the fire burnt the body beyond recognition. The police would need dental records to determine it was him. The cause of death, however, was perfectly obvious. A massive crater was blown into the side of his head, from what Blake could only assume had been a sniper's bullet.

Ignoring her stomach's attempt to vomit, Blake tugged Yang back from the flames, pulling her away before the fire began to spread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back. If you can, please take a moment to shoot out a review, even an anonymous one - they're very helpful in letting me see what readers liked and what they didn't, and I really appreciate critiques.


	22. White Lily - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss is rushed to the hospital following her shooting, while our assassins move to clean up after their attack.

_One ounce each of gin, white rum, and Cointreau, with just a dash of absinthe. Something for after you say goodbye._

The dark robes of the man trekking across the field were a stark contrast to the white drifts around him. Snow fell from his feet with every step, as his boots crunched through layers of frost and ice beneath the powder. The man shivered, pulling his outer robe tighter around him before pressing, moving quickly but deliberately. Each step had to be precise, landing in one of the footprints already marking their way up the hill.

Eventually, it would be obvious that someone had come here. That the scene had been disturbed. With such a high-profile death as Morden Schnee's, there would be plenty of pressure on the local PD, who would inevitably go over the grounds with a fine-toothed comb. That didn't mean he had to make it easy for them. Even this far behind the palatial mansion, he could already make out the sound of arriving sirens and the whip-whip of airship blades. Miss Schnee's ambulance, he supposed.

He made his way through the copse of fallen trees, his hood keeping the wind off his face, past the shattered trunks where sniper rounds had splintered through wood and bark, past the telltale splash of too-pink red where Ruby's shot had found its mark. Past the footprint-covered field where Blake and the sniper dueled, and the crater where Yang's gauntlets sent him flying. He walked, snow squeaking and squelching under his feet, over to where the gunman lay slumped against a gnarled oak, its boughs bent and twisted from one too many winters. A thin layer of powder had already fallen atop the body, fine little clumps gathering on the woolen hat in the few minutes he'd sat there.

"Hey, Lloyd."

The slumped form didn't answer. The man in the black robes nodded, as if hearing something in the silence, and rummaged around inside a pocket.

"Smoke? It's not like your lungs aren't ruined as it is." More silence. He tossed the little packet from hand to hand, waited a second, then shrugged. "No? Well, suit yourself."

The business of lighting the cigarette distracted him for a minute, working to get the damn thing lit while the wind kept blowing out the lighter. He eventually got it going, a little line of grey winding up past the snow-laden branches into the dark, star-filled sky.

"You know, I thought this'd be a lot more awkward, but it's actually pretty normal: me talking, you pissed off and silent." He took one long drag off the cig, holding the smoke for a second before letting it out with a sigh.

"Good news. I think you pulled it off. I mean, it's not a sure thing, and I know you hadn't decided what you were gonna do. Still ... I want to think you made the right decision in the end. Either that, or you just fucked up royally."

Still nothing. The corpse sat there, silent and unmoving, its skin already turning pale from the cold.

"As for the bad news ... I don't have a lot of time, and I need something from you."

Crouching down in the snow, the man rocked onto his heels and flicked a knife from his sleeve. Gingerly, he slid the tip under the straps that held the mask in place, managing to mostly avoid the sniper's skin.

Snip. One strap came free. Then another.

"At least you knew this was coming. I mean, you _watched_ her kill the last guy." He paused in his cutting, smiling almost apologetically down at the dead man. "I'd have done it fast, though. Headshot, nice and simple. They could still ID your face, with none of this poison-gas crap she whipped up."

The last strap came undone, dangling limply from the metal corner, twitching feebly as it caught the wind. Leather-wrapped fingers reached behind the mask, pushing past the metal until they could slip behind the beveled edge. The man in black shuddered, immeasurably grateful for the leather gloves between his hand and the cold, dead flesh.

"So ... just wanted to say: sorry 'bout desecrating your corpse." With a jerk, the man twisted the mask to the side. A dozen little snaps followed, small internal metal arms cracking as the device broke. The body twitched from the motion, blood trickling weakly from the corner of its mouth.

"I really hate this part," he said, more to himself than his captive audience. Eyes closed, and wishing there was something he could use to cover his ears, the man grit his teeth, and pulled.

It was over after a second, metallic mask with its jagged tracheal tube ripped from the corpse's throat. Still looking anywhere but at the body, the man fumbled with the sniper's face and forced his jaw shut. A fistful of snow cleaned the blood off the side of the corpse's mouth. He deserved that last little bit of dignity.

"Freeze!"

The man in the black robes sighed and straightened, the mask dangling from one hand, still-lit cig burning brightly in the other. Slowly, the man ducked his head and glanced over his shoulder. The fuzz had arrived, three navy blue uniforms dark against the snow banks, all with pistols aimed at the solitary figure standing above the corpse. Their feet were spread just a little too far apart, arms a little too stiff as they held their guns out in front of them. Mist billowed from the left one's mouth, coming in short quick breaths.

His corner of his mouth twitched. They were rookies, probably sent to secure the scene from exactly the kind of tampering he was doing.

"Hands up," one of the cops said, his voice as hesitant and unsure as the step he took towards the hooded figure. "No sudden moves."

Face hidden beneath his cowl, the man grinned, hands coming up by the side of his head. With one, slow, lazy gesture, he tapped the filter of his cig, a little globule of ash falling from the end and spiraling gently down, landing lightly atop the snow.

Smoke exploded around the body, consuming the corpse and the man in black. The provincial cops fired blindly into the cloud. Bullets split the screen of ash and smoke, tugging little lines of air behind them. Then, just as suddenly, the smog dispersed, leaving behind one gnarled oak with a few new holes and a dead man seated at its roots.

The man in the robes was gone.

* * *

The wait outside the ICU passed in the kind of silence you wish would last, broken by nurses and doctors walking past the waiting room, by rolling beds and rushing gurneys. It felt like time should stop, like the world should be kind enough to simply make everything else go away, to let them wallow in their worry. But life went on, in the form of people in pastel scrubs moving to-and-fro, speaking to this family or that, white jackets flashing by as the wearers went about their business, their faces kind and gentle, with the strained quality of people well and truly preoccupied.

Blake had never been one for medical shows with Holmesian knock-offs, or soaps about well-groomed doctors fornicating in a supply closet. Hospitals had never been places of drama for her, of intrigue and tension as handsome men and women fought to save their patients along with their love lives. The place held no attraction for her. They'd all been on both sides of some pair of double doors once or twice, usually just waiting until the doctors finished this stitch or setting that bone. For the most part, their team been fairly lucky, but a huntress' job was far from a safe one, and more than a few ended their lives in a place like this.

Her nose wrinkled every so often at the smell: the sterile, cold reek of disinfectant. The kind of chemical 'clean' that left nothing living in its wake. It smelled of death and dying, of people lying in beds waiting for a series of beeps to stop, for one long note that meant the end. It smelled of the constant battle against bacteria and viruses brought in by hundreds of patients every day.

Yang paced around the waiting room like a caged tiger, a comparison made even more accurate by the way she snarled at anyone who dared come close. Every so often she'd glare at the clock, then the doors to the operating room, then furiously start prowling again. Ruby simply sat in one of the padded chairs, her face impassive, slumped over her knees and staring unfocused through the floor. Whenever the double doors opened, worried gray eyes shot up, only to fall back down as another patient or doctor passed by.

Then the calls came. Apparently, the attempted assassination of the Schnee heiress counted as big news, made even more noteworthy paired with reports of her father's death. A bevy of reporters had already camped out in front of the main doors by the time the team arrived on the helipad, crowded in back of the medical Bullhead that airlifted Weiss from her family's estate. Thankfully, hospital security had kept the cameras and muckrakers out, but the damage was done. They'd barely been in the waiting room ten minutes before the 'breaking news' started blaring over a television that no one had thought to turn off. Yang was quick to remedy that, even if her solution was ripping the power cable from the wall when the desk nurse was too slow finding the remote.

Her mood didn't improve as the night went on. The first one of their friends to call nearly had their head bitten off before Blake could get Yang's scroll away from her in time. With it securely tucked away, Blake settled into fielding calls. Everyone had heard about the attack from someone they knew, or a news report announcing the tragedy at Schnee Manor. There was barely a second after she finished one message and the next one arrived. Everyone asked if there was any news on Weiss' condition, if she was out of surgery, if she was going to be okay.

Velvet called from her second honeymoon, Coco from her vacation in Atlas. Pyrrha and Jaune heard about the attack off a hand-held radio, and offered to take leave from their hunting duties if the group needed anything. Blake told them what she could – that Weiss was in surgery, that there wasn't any news. If anything, she was glad to have something to do, a reason to keep busy rather than just sit and wait.

The sun had started to rise by the time a doctor in dressed in teal scrubs stepped out from behind the double doors, pulling a paper cap from her head and running a hand through her short black hair.

"Ms. Belladonna?"

Blake rose and nodded. She'd expected to be the one the doctor called, even with the rest of the team seated in the room. Hospitals tended to be fairly reluctant about talking to anyone outside of immediate family, even fellow hunter teams. After their time at Beacon, Weiss and Blake had named each other as their emergency contacts and medical proxies. It just made sense at the time – Ruby and Yang had each other if anything happened, but Blake didn't have a family to call, and Weiss ... Weiss didn't have one that she wanted called.

The doctor smiled, reaching out a hand to shake Blake's. "I'm Doctor Rika Yabai. Pleased to meet you."

Blake took it, feeling the strength in the firm handshake the little woman gave her. "How is she?"

The doctor looked pointedly at the other two, Ruby still staring blankly into space, Yang shooting glances their way while grinding a rut into the floor. Motioning to the chairs, Yabai sat across from Ruby, giving Blake the time to sit beside her friend.

"She's lucky, if you can call it that. Her aura took the brunt of the shot, but if she wasn't trained ..." The doctor shook her head, glancing down at the unopened chart. "As it is, the round splintered when it hit one of her upper ribs. Most of it went through, but one of the fragments nicked her pulmonary artery, and there were a few more buried fairly deep. They're out, but she's still in critical condition."

"How critical?"

The doctor hesitated, her words coming slow and careful. "I don't want to worry you, but she lost a lot of blood, and went into cardiac arrest twice during the surgery. Frankly, with a bullet wound that size ... well, she's lucky to be alive. We're moving her into intensive care now. We'll let you know the second anything changes."

"She has a bad reaction to oxycodone," Blake said, blurting it out without thinking, suddenly worried they might not have known, that even now, Weiss could be ...

Dr. Yabai nodded and smiled comfortingly. "It was in her medical record. She's on morphine and aura boosters for the pain at the moment, and we'll discuss treatment options and physical therapy when she wakes up."

"Can we see her?" a small voice said softly. Ruby was standing, swaying on her feet and looking as if she was about to fall over. Yang, finally seeing something she could do, was already wrapping an arm around Ruby's shoulders, keeping the younger girl upright.

"Right now, the thing she needs most is rest. I'm not sure if-"

Blake stood, cutting off Yabai's reply, and motioned for the doctor to follow. Leading her away from the two sisters, she kept her voice low – Ruby didn't need to hear this.

"Doctor, someone just tried to take out most of the Schnee family. Her father wasn't as lucky, and there's a decent chance they'll try again. Now, I'm sure that there'll be a police detail outside her room by tomorrow, but Weiss is going to have some extra security." Blake slipped her hunter's license into the doctor's hand, the little laminated card with her photo set in the leather folder.

The doctor looked down, hesitating just long enough for Blake to start considering ways to force the issue. Finally, she pursed her lips and nodded. "Fair enough. I'll make sure she's assigned one of the private rooms. I'll be right back."

Blake thanked her and went back to the two sisters, Ruby already back to staring blankly through the floor while Yang lowered her into the chair. It was only a moment before Dr. Yabai returned, looking a little more haggard than before.

"They're moving her to room 22b. She's still unconscious, and there's no telling exactly when she'll wake up, but if you want-"

Ruby brushed past her, feet falling aimlessly as she moved down the hall. The doctor pulled ahead at a half-jog, leading the three around the corner before Ruby could get herself lost. Together, they walked down the corridor to the ICU, Yang hovering around her sister. The short doctor led the team past rows of closed doors, the odd open door showing empty rooms with beds loaded with monitoring equipment. Eventually they came to one door at the end of the hall, close to the nurses' station.

Weiss lay under the hospital covers, hooked up to heart monitor, the machine giving off a steady, if slow, electronic beat. Her arms lay atop the sheets, an IV running down from a blood bag hung off a metal stand. A breathing mask was strapped to her face, the machine quietly clicking and whirring with the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Her long white hair was tied back, piled up under a cap like the one Yabai had worn. She looked pale – too pale. _Blood loss,_ Blake thought, and shuddered at how cold Weiss looked, even for someone whose temperature naturally ran cool.

Blake caught Yabai's arm, pulling her aside as the two sisters moved into the room. Closing the door behind them, she turned, glancing down to look the doctor in the eye.

"Is the question 'when' or 'if' she'll wake up?" she asked, trying her best to be blunt.

Dr. Yabai hesitated a moment before speaking, and the Faunus saw the battle behind her eyes, the struggle to balance hope and reality. Then something inside clamped down and the look vanished, replaced with the calm reassurance she'd carried earlier.

"She's been through a lot. We'll keep her under close supervision for the next several hours, but ultimately, it will take time for her body to heal. It could be a few days or more before she wakes up."

"And if she doesn't?"

"... she's stable. But if there isn't a change in her condition, we'll need to run some more tests, see if there are any complications." The surgeon gave her a stoic little smile. It was a kind Blake had seen before, the kind people used when they wanted you to be stoic too. "She looks like a fighter."

"You have no idea."

The doctor nodded, and gave Blake's shoulder a little shake before walking away. Braced for the worst, Blake opened the hospital room door. Someone – she guessed it was Yang – had dragged one of the chairs over to the bedside. Ruby just sat there, the rest of the world forgotten, eyes only for the girl lying in that bed.

There was a look on her face Blake had never seen her wear before. Not Ruby. Not the girl who hunted Beowolves for fun, who let herself get catapulted off cliffs into Grimm-infested territory. The sweet little irrepressible ball of energy who'd brought the four of them together. Yet there it was, the same expression she'd seen on the families of White Fang members who never came home. That empty, hopeless, broken stare. One of her hands held tight to Weiss', holding on as if it was the only thing keeping her in this world. The almost silent sound of droplets falling hit Blake's ears, and she watched as tears ran silently down Ruby's face, before dripping off her chin down onto the hospital bed.

A soft knock came from the door. Blake turned, more than a little ashamed of how glad she was for a distraction. One of the nurses had poked her head into the room.

"Ms. Belladonna? There's a Mr. Verdir waiting at the front desk for you."

Blake nodded, and the woman vanished, pink scrubs whipping down the hall as she got back to work.

"Yang, could you-"

"Beat the living daylights out of anyone we don't know who comes through that door?" Yang looked back over her shoulder, eyes blood-red with held back fury. "Yeah, I got this."

"I know," Blake said. Then they were just standing there, staring, waiting for the other to do ... something. There was the certainty, the knowledge that Yang was hurting, that Blake should be doing _something_ to help her. But nothing seemed like the right thing to say, the right way to comfort someone in just as much pain as she was.

Yang made the decision for her. Silently, she wrapped her arms around Blake and squeezed, head buried in the crook of the Faunus' neck. Grateful for the reprieve from responsibility, Blake hugged her back. It helped, for a little while. Then Yang pulled away, trying and failing to smile, and Blake slipped out the door.

* * *

Vardon was lounging in one of the padded chairs by the time she came down to the lobby, flanked on either side by hospital security, their blue uniforms glinting with metal pips and ID badges. Blake flashed her huntress license, and the two men notably straightened before leaving her alone with the visitor. Apparently, even a Faunus huntress – or one attached to Weiss Schnee, at least – earned an additional level of respect.

"Yo," Vardon said, flippant enough to make Blake seriously reconsider leaving him alone in a room with Yang. _She could really use something to punch right about now._

He was still wearing his outfit from the party – they all were, beneath hastily-donned coats and scarves. There hadn't been time for anything else, not while piling in the back of a medical airship and hoping desperately that they would make it to the hospital on time.

"You're still using the Verdir identity?" she asked, taking the chair across from him.

Vardon grinned at the use of his alias and shrugged. "Lutin Verdir, Marquis of the Silver Bluffs, is a peer to the Schnee family, if not a member of their tax bracket. He's respectable. I show up as him, they tell you I'm here. I say I'm 'Vardon Wight, private investigator,' and I get thrown out on my ass. Especially since someone apparently told security to be extra-special-careful about people trying to visit Miss Schnee."

"I should tell them to detain the unscrupulous P.I. who smells like an ashtray instead?"

"You wound me, Belladonna," Vardon winced in mock hurt before some of the humor slipped from his face. He leaned forward, his voice lower, less cheerful. "How's she doing?"

"She'll live," she said automatically. Some small part of her hoped that saying it might make it true. Vardon nodded, and Blake wondered if he heard the lie in her voice.

"I brought gifts," he said, apparently as glad for the awkward segue as she was, and started rummaging around inside the dark lining of his robe. A few clear packets materialized from the green cloth, followed by a little chip of a memory card and one odd-looking, brown-wrapped lump.

"What is-"

"Evidence. The cops would've freaked if I took his boom-stick, but they weren't in time to stop me from snapping a few pictures and grabbing a couple slugs. I'm sure they'll run ballistics, just in case that gun got used in any other prominent murders, but I figured you might find a use for these."

Blake took the sealed bag, her fingers wrapping around the crumpled shell through the plastic. They were large, thicker than even the nearly-four-inch-long rounds Ruby used.

"Are these ..."

Vardon nodded, slipping one squashed chunk out of the evidence bag, playing with it between his fingertips. "Yup. Ninety-five caliber rounds."

Blake swallowed. A fifty caliber rifle, like Ruby's, was high-powered enough to take out your average adult Grimm in a single shot. A solid hit from one of those would demolish the aura of the average human or Faunus – and probably do some damage in the process – but not the aura of a trained huntsman or huntress. Against a skilled fighter, Ruby would need several shots to center mass just to take their defenses down.

Without specific dust-equipped rounds, that kind of weapon would only annoy larger species of Grimm. A Giant Nevermore and the older Death Stalkers or Goliaths would barely even acknowledge a hit, which is why hunter squads occasionally used something with a little more mass. Blake hadn't touched them herself, but she recognized the ordinance when she saw it. What had hit Weiss was a .95 caliber slug, the kind designed to work against the tougher, older Grimm. Those weapons had their drawbacks – their sheer size made it impossible to fire them with any accuracy without muzzle brakes and a whole lot of stabilizing – and it would still take several shots, but it was one of the few ways of killing something that big without risking a full team or air support.

 _Or_ , Blake noted, her stomach twisting as she looked down at the crumpled bullet, _you could use it to plow through almost any hunter's aura with a single shot._

She blinked and wondered exactly how long she'd been sitting there, staring down at one of the bullets from a gun that nearly killed her friend. Letting the packet fall onto the seat of a nearby chair, she reached for the memory card.

"Tell me you copied his files while you were in there."

"Yeah, because we had _so_ much time between the diabolic monologue and the assassination attempt." Vardon tossed his own round back into its bag and dropped it with the others. "I have the record of the first transfer he made, and some of the holding companies it went through. Unfortunately, it looks like the fire completely slagged his hard drive. The forensic guys will check, but I doubt they'll get much ... and that's assuming some SDC lawyer hasn't already filed an injunction. 'Trade secrets' you know?"

"Especially since the secret is that their CEO tried to have his daughter executed." Pain was already starting to build behind her eyes – stress, worry, and too little sleep taking its toll. "I want whoever set that fire. The one from my apartment. If the sniper was working as a distraction, it was so _he_ could hit the office." "

"Or they had someone else. Or it might have just been rigged to go. Set up an accelerant, find some way for the shot to set it off ... look, I'm sure some arson investigator's gonna tear that room apart." Pausing, Vardon reached down, picking up the odd-looking lump and tossing it in his hand. He stared at it, a little too long in Blake's opinion, looking reluctant to part with the strange package. "I did manage to get this."

It was a matter of seconds before Blake finished unfolding the brown paper. Inside was the mask, matte-black and glinting ominously. Blood still stained the mechanics inside and the milky-white translucent tube. Little metallic arms bent inside the face-plate, designed to bend and stretch, allowing it to separate, to clamp down on the wearer's face. More metal prongs jutted along the breathing tube, some still coated with something Blake never wanted to identify.

However intimidating or cruel the mask had looked when worn, it was nothing compared to seeing how it functioned. Looking at it, Blake felt an immediate desire to jam the thing down the nearest trash compactor. Or an incinerator, if she could find one. It was just _... wrong_ , as if whoever designed it had no value for human life. _If there's one thing I'm sure of_ , she thought, _it's that anyone who_ willingly _wears one of these is a complete psychopath._

Vardon coughed and Blake looked up, realizing she'd forgotten he was there. "The gas is gone ... I think. I broke the transmitter when I yanked it out, but you should probably still be careful. No telling what the whack-job who built that thing put in there."

Fighting to keep from looking at the grotesque _thing,_ Blake folded the cut-open bag back around the mask, checking to make sure the wrapping wouldn't come undone. There it sat, an innocent little brown paper package holding the best lead she had.

Not that it would necessarily do her any good. She doubted that whoever made the mask had just ordered parts from a hardware store, and it wasn't exactly the thing you could just find online. Maybe, if they were lucky, she could find a serial number on one of the parts – something to track back to a manufacturer. But if it was all hand-made ... What they needed was more information, a place to really start. Some way to figure out what the hell was actually going on. What they needed ...

Gold eyes narrowed as Blake looked back up at Vardon. "You still owe me for the stunt back at my apartment."

Dark brows arched in disbelief. "Seriously? Stealing evidence from a crime scene didn't cover it?"

"I want everything you have. On us. On Morden. Everything." Blake watched as Vardon's jaw started to set. He watched as stubbornness flickered in his eyes, and decided it was time to invoke the nuclear option. Every minute she spent down here with him was another that Yang and Ruby were alone in that room. It was time to stop playing nice.

"Would you rather I get Yang down here?"

The threat of involving the blonde destroyed any resistance he had. Raising his hands in surrender, Vardon settled back into the plush hospital chair. "Fine. Fine. Whatever keeps Red-Eyes Blonde Dragon from shooting fireballs at me."

* * *

It was well past daybreak when the man in the dark robes walked into the abandoned retail complex. The door he stepped through led to a foreclosed bookstore, empty shelves lit sporadically by the light slipping through boarded windows. It was perfect as a temporary base of operations. Emphasis on temporary. The back office served them well enough, but by this point, there was little left to indicate that anyone had ever been there. Flames flickered from inside a metal drum, the papers and contaminated clothes inside already ablaze.

Wordlessly, the man stripped out of his costume. Carefully, he folded the robes so the black side faced out, hiding the green lining inside. Satisfied, he tossed the layers atop the fire and started scrubbing down his hands and arms. His IDs followed; one for a nonexistent Marquis out of Atlas, the other for private detective currently operating within Vale. Satisfied that any evidence tying him to the scene was wiped clean, he hurried to the duffel in the corner, grabbing new clothes and trying not to shiver from the cold.

"I assume you have good news," a female voice called, little emotion left in her low monotone. The speaker emerged from the back office, chin-length blonde hair in a slick shingle above her ash-gray coat, a red gas-can swinging from one latex-covered hand.

The man shrugged, doing up the buttons on his shirt. "And some bad."

"Explain."

"Your mask worked. They shouldn't have any trouble running Lloyd through facial rec."

The woman said nothing, the unspoken 'but' hanging in the air.

"I think it threw off his aim. The Schnee girl lived."

Black slacks and vest followed the dark green shirt. Huddled by the fire, he whipped a chestnut-colored greatcoat around his shoulders, letting the heat push back some of the chill. New wallets and badges went into freshly-laundered pockets. One for Detective Vardon, one for a local PD officer, and a hunter's license he tucked into the lining of his coat.

It never hurt to be prepared.

He looked down at the leather gloves currently melting in the flames, and sighed. He had just gotten them to the point he liked. It would take at least a month to break in a new pair, get them so they fit perfectly under his katars. Still, nothing to be done. They were bound to have traces of the thermite he'd left in Schnee's office, and they couldn't leave any mess behind. And it was hardly the greatest loss that night.

"Poor Lloyd," he sighed, rubbing his hands to warm them. "That little puppy had so much to live for. And he was only three days away from retirement."

"Are you done?" the woman in the gray coat snapped, upending the gas-can into the barrel. The man flinched back as the fire roared, consuming anything that could tie them to the attack on the manor.

"How much do you plan to give them?" she asked, chucking the can into the blaze. Her latex gloves followed, peeled carefully away to keep any traces from getting on her skin.

"'Detective Vardon' is getting them everything on Morden. It's just the surveillance I did as our 'due diligence,' so it's not like they'll find any connection to us. Unless you feel like whipping up a shot of Morden and Adam getting buddy-buddy just to freak them out." The man in the green shirt paused, the possible reactions running through his head. "That'd actually be pretty funny, so if you want-"

"The office?" It was less a question than a demand, but 'Vardon' simply smiled.

"Oh, _that_ went off without a hitch. They'll have to check dental records to ID the body. Once they decide it's Schnee, I doubt anyone else will believe he hired us. Even if the girls tried, it's pretty hard to get data off melted slag."

"And my mask?"

The man waved at the barrel and said nothing, waiting for her to draw her own conclusions.

The expression on the woman's face could have made ice for several skating rinks, with enough left for a sculpture or two. "Those are not easy to replace."

"What? I had to rip it out. Didn't have one of your little remotes," he shrugged, fumbling in his coat for his second-favorite lighter – the other one was probably melting beneath his gloves by now. "About Lloyd – he did _technically_ fail, and if I remember correctly, you had a pretty specific list of consequences if he didn't take out Miss Schnee as-ordered."

"Leave it be, Robert. At this point, going after the family would be ... counterproductive. It's best if everyone thinks he did this out of some misguided loyalty to the White Fang. A few more appearances by Taurus, and there should be little doubt that the organization is rebuilding itself."

"Whatever you say," he said, looking for his smokes and realizing they were burning along with the rest of the clothes. Sighing, he settled for flicking the lighter open and closed, listening to the little metallic click. "For the record, I really prefer 'Robin.' Hell, I'd take 'Robby' or 'Hob' if it loosens you up a bit."

The woman made a metallic click of her own, and he looked over to find her sliding new rounds into one of her knuckle-dusters. Taking the hint, the man shoved the lighter back into his coat.

"Just tryin' to be friendly, Mal," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and making for the door.

"Robert," she said softly. "I was more than willing to eliminate a skilled operator when his continued survival became a threat."

Finished loading, the woman flicked the chamber shut and started on her second weapon. "Don't fuck this up."

"Don't worry. I'm not one of your tin soldiers, needing orders every ten seconds. It's probably why the boss made you hire me." Robin bowed his way out of the room, thinking of a body probably still lying at the foot of a gnarled tree. Sighing, he wondered exactly how far a man could be willing to go for one small victory, when all he had left was spite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please drop a comment if you can or a kudo if you liked it - I'm interested to hear what people thought so far, especially since I'm still not completely happy with the chapter.


	23. Goodnight's Kiss - Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY waits to see if Weiss will recover, while the villains discuss the next stage of their plan.

_Place one drop of bitters on a sugar cube and drop into a champagne flute. Add champagne and splash of Campari._

No one slept that first night in the hospital room. They were still charged with the lingering rush of adrenaline, the worry, the paranoia. It was no wonder that they were all edge. Whenever Blake looked at Yang, she could see her own nervousness in the blonde's worried eyes, her hands playing with her gauntlets, Yang glancing every so often towards the window or the door. The two partners were waiting for another attack, another gunshot, another mercenary or madman in a mask bursting into the room. After the last couple weeks they'd had, it wouldn't really be that surprising.

As for Ruby ... Blake tried not to look too long at Ruby. The girl had that look, the air of someone broken inside, her eyes unfocused and blank as she stared down at Weiss' sleeping face.

It didn't help that Blake spent the night staring at the mask in its little evidence bag, or that Yang could barely sit without bouncing, needing to leave the room for an hour or so at a time, pacing outside the door or prowling down the corridor. She always returned with something – water, soda, machine-dispensed coffee – pressing it into Blake or Ruby's hands before trying once more to sit for longer than five minutes.

The entire time, her eyes darted from her sister, to Weiss, to any entry point for their next attacker. Blake watched as the older sister hovered, caught between wanting to hold her sister and worrying that Ruby didn't even want to be touched.

Yang stayed close to her sister whenever she was in the room, but Blake wasn't sure if Ruby even noticed. She simply sat there, gazing down at the heiress in silence. She'd drink whatever was pressed into her hand, but her eyes never left Weiss, and Yang had to take the empty cups from her fingers to toss into the garbage. Every so often, the older sister would wrap her arms around her sister's shoulders, careful to see if her sister wanted to be left alone. Ruby never spoke, never reacted, just sat there still as a statue, staring hopelessly at the girl in the bed.

Morning brought two uniformed officers assigned by the local PD, planted directly outside the door. Blake doubted they'd be much good against Adam or his accomplices, but they were one more line of security, and anything that kept reporters from bursting into the room was fine by her. To their credit, they left the girls to themselves, only peeking in when they first arrived to let the team know they were there.

Nurses poked their heads in throughout the day, checking Weiss' vitals, fixing machines, and replacing bags. Doctor Yabai checked in twice, examining her patient and eyeing the three girls critically. Food always appeared after her visits, trays laden with items scavenged from the cafeteria, passed into the room by the officers waiting outside. Most of the food sat uneaten, the odd bit disappearing when Yang left for another prowl around the halls.

Finally, Yang had the presence of mind to suggest that one of them should get some sleep – that they'd be no good to Weiss if all three of them were completely strung-out and exhausted. Neither partner had the heart to suggest that Ruby should be the one to rest, and after a quiet debate, Blake agreed to let Yang take the first shift.

The Faunus barely slept, curled up on the couch and trying desperately to will herself into unconsciousness. She needed to sleep. She _had_ to sleep, if only so she'd be ready for whichever psychopath attacked them next. So Yang could rest while she took her turn at watch. But sleep was a long time in coming, and all she could see when she closed her eyes was Weiss, collapsed on that ballroom floor, blood seeping into the marble. The scene sat in her mind, frozen in perfect detail, Ruby slumped over the body, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.

When she finally managed to sleep, it was broken and fitful, shaken awake by her own stirring or by Yang's hand on her shoulder. Shadowed monsters haunted her dreams, hunting her friends, dogging their every footstep. Sometimes it was Adam chasing them, the tip of Ruby's scythe still buried in his chest. Or it was a legion of masked killers, every one that fell to her sword merely replaced by another.

Finally, light crept in through the bottom of the blinds, and Blake gave up. Rolling to the side, she stretched, cramped muscles stiff and tense after hours spent on the too-small couch. Yang was seated against the opposite wall, rings under her eyes and her fingers on her gauntlets. Ruby was still awake, still staring blankly down at Weiss' unconscious body.

Not wanting to disturb her, Blake rose from the couch. The makeshift bed squeaked as she moved and joined Yang by the wall. Neither said anything. In all fairness, there wasn't much to say. Neither were in the mood for small talk, and Blake had no intention of voicing the empty promise that Weiss would be okay. Eventually, the Faunus' head slumped down to the side, landing on Yang's shoulder in a silent plea for ... something. Comfort?

 _Maybe just the reminder that she's still here_ , she thought. _That she's not going to lose me too._

Almost immediately, Yang's head leaned atop her own, careful not to press against her ears. Blake closed her eyes, letting the pressure ground her as they both waited helplessly beside their unconscious teammate.

Opening her eyes, she turned, facing the blonde she was resting on. Yang looked exhausted. The long blonde hair that she prized so highly was matted and messy, and deep circles that matched her sister's laid beneath her eyes.

"It's your turn," Blake said softly, pressing her lips to Yang's cheek in a brief gesture of affection.

Nodding absently, the blonde rose from the floor, lay down on the couch, and immediately went to sleep. Within seconds, Blake could hear the soft huffing sound of her breath, broken every so often by a quiet snore.

Blake envied her ability to just pass out, no matter the situation. They had all gotten used to 'roughing it,' but Yang was the only one who could somehow fall asleep just about anywhere. Or maybe she was actually _that_ tired, so exhausted that sleep came upon her the second she closed her eyes.

The Faunus passed the time staring at the door, Gambol Shroud never far from her fingertips. No one entered this early in the morning, no nurses, no doctors, the only sound coming from outside when the relief shift arrived to replace their guards.

Her scroll sat on the nearby counter, powered down and waiting. She was sure she'd be flooded with messages the second she turned it on, filled with questions and worries and people desperately wanting to know what was happening. She _should_ answer it, tell them nothing had changed, that Weiss was still hanging on, if only barely. They deserved to know, but ... somehow, she just couldn't manage the energy.

Ruby hadn't slept, and even from the floor, Blake could see the circles under her eyes growing even darker as she stared down at Weiss. Her head drooped, nodding up and down as she fought desperately to keep from falling asleep. Pushing herself from the floor, Blake made her way across the room, careful to keep from waking the blonde lying across the couch.

"You should get some sleep," she whispered, hand squeezing the younger girl's shoulder.

"Can't," was the only reply.

"If anything happens ..." Blake paused, swallowed, and changed what she'd been about to say. " _When_ she gets up, I promise I'll wake you."

"Blake, if I close my eyes-"

"She _will_ be there when you wake up," the Faunus cut her off, putting as much certainty as she could muster into her voice. It wasn't much, and from the way Ruby slumped a little deeper in her chair, Blake had a feeling the younger girl could tell.

The girl in red pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping one arm around her legs while the other held tightly to her partner.

"She might not be."

* * *

The hospital cafeteria was already open by the time Yang woke, offering bland breakfast foods to staff and visitors when Blake left the sisters and made her way downstairs. None of them were hungry, and the mere idea of food made Blake's stomach turn. Still, she knew that letting themselves starve wouldn't do Weiss any good, and the last thing they needed was another attack while the three of them were at anything less than their best.

So she trudged through the room, glancing at the menus hung above blurry Plexiglas shields. A few tables sat along the high windows, bare glass panes doing their best to make the place seem open and warm. No one seemed to notice her disheveled appearance, or if they did, they gave no sign. If they were here this early, she supposed they all had bigger things to worry about than a somewhat sleep-deprived Faunus.

Nothing on the menus sounded good, or even looked vaguely edible, but Blake still grabbed a couple things, just on the off chance one of them eventually decided they needed to eat.

Ruby had finally passed out by the time Blake returned to the room, brown paper bags of bagels and muffins tucked under her arm. Crescent Rose had slid to the floor when the younger girl lost consciousness, her fingers still limply gripping the handle. As Blake watched from the open door, Yang packed the scythe back into its rifle form, leaving the haft of the weapon well within her sister's reach. Ruby was slumped in her chair by the bed, her hand still clutching Weiss'.

Yang hazarded a look at their friend, and Blake could tell the blonde immediately wished she hadn't. Weiss looked half-dead at best, her face far too pale, even for her. Her chest barely moved when she breathed, and the view from up close couldn't have been any better.

Wrapping a spare blanket around Ruby's shoulders, Yang moved around to the other side of the bed, moving slowly to keep from waking her sister. The silk remains of her costume rustled beneath her coat as she sat on Weiss' other side. One tan hand reached out, pushing a stray white hair back under the cap.

"Weiss, if you die on her, I will _never_ forgive you. So ... come on Snowflake. Wake up."

Deciding that the room was the last place she wanted to be, Blake let the door close and wandered back down the hall, fighting to keep her face from crumpling into tears, and glad that no one was around to see her when she failed.

* * *

"You have any idea what her plan is?"

Vardon sighed – he'd decided it was a 'Vardon' day, and the detective's license in his inside pocket agreed with him – and looked over his disassembled weapon. His gun-katars sat in pieces on the upturned crate, assorted parts carefully laid out while he cleaned the firing mechanism. Brushes and oil sat nearby, a machine sharpener waiting patiently off to one side for the triangular blades.

Resigned to the interruption, he turned, craning his neck up to look at the newcomer. A half-masked man stood next to him, red hair spiking out around short black horns. He was a bit leaner than he looked in his well-publicized mugshot – Vardon guessed the whole 'being brought back from the dead' shtick had something to do with that. _Nothing better for dropping a few pounds than a scythe through the chest. Or a gaping chest wound._

"At the moment?" Vardon drawled, working to get a spec of might possibly be dirt off the slide. "Hopefully nothing."

Adam stood there for a moment, apparently waiting for more of an answer. When none seemed forthcoming, he settled into a nearby chair, watching as Vardon reached for the little bottle of oil.

"We can't just sit here."

"Course we can." Satisfied that the barrel was clean, Vardon set about reassembling the firearm portion of his weapon, screws and slides popping into place as the parts slid back together. "Look, there's still every chance that Miss Schnee's condition will go south. If she dies without satisfying her mother's conditions for inheritance, her interest in the company defaults over to the board. All we have to do is 'encourage' them to put it up for public auction. Job done, the client is happy, and no more risk on our part."

Adam seemed to mull this over for a second. Vardon was more than happy to let him think, setting the finished weapon to the side and starting work on the second. He was halfway through lubricating the barrel when the masked man growled beneath his breath and stood.

"I don't like it," he grumbled, starting to pace back and forth in the confined space. "What if the brat pulls through?"

"Depends. If she's deemed comatose, we're still good. It'd take more time, but we just need the board to claim her controlling interest and compensate her estate." Satisfied, Vardon popped the slide back into place, trying to ignore the rhythmic motion of the black-clad man crossing back and forth in the corner of his eye. "Right now, nothing is particularly time-sensitive. We can always 'help her along' once her security loosens up a bit."

"And if she actually recovers?"

The man in green sighed, giving up and leaving the half-assembled weapon on the crate. "Then we make her un-recover. One of us sneaks in and puts a bullet between her eyes. That blunt enough for you?"

The pacing stopped for a second, and Vardon watched as the gears slowly turned in the other man's head.

"We should just kill her now and get it over with."

"Look, assuming that killing her was even the right play – which it isn't – right now she's being watched 'round the clock. At the very least, we'd have to deal with two or three trained huntresses and hospital security, not counting any cops they might pull in. We're lucky that Schnee fired most of his private security before the ball, but we still don't have the manpower to spare on a full-frontal assault, and sniping's out of the question, 'cause there's no good vantage point into her room. It's the first thing I checked."

"You're the infiltration expert," Adam growled, stepping forward to loom over him. "Figure it out."

Vardon sighed, leaning back and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. This sucked – he'd been hoping the 'new and improved' version of the Faunus would come with a halfway decent personality – but it seemed death hadn't mellowed the redhead. "Assuming we _had_ to kill her ... I vote Mal grabs one of those sexy nurse outfits and goes in as a 'deadly doctor.' Air bubble in a syringe, get a nice little aneurysm going. Might even look accidental."

"Ignoring that those uniforms have _never_ been used, by _any_ medical organization, I'd still need to get close enough to deliver the injection and be able to escape." A distinctly female voice cut in from behind them, and Adam visibly flinched as the woman in grey walked towards the pair. Vardon gave a guilty little grin, reaching for his half-finished weapon and snapping the pieces back together.

"Well, your pets are out of the running at least. Kinda hard to hide your death masks under those white cough guards." With a click, Vardon snapped the chamber back together "Sorry big guy. Unless you feel up to taking on Belladonna right now, we wait."

"Robert is correct, for once," Mal said, sounding almost pained from the reluctant admission. "At the moment, our best option is to do nothing." When no more objections came, she continued, apparently satisfied that the redheaded man would fall in line. "Robert, continue monitoring the girl. You are to take no overt actions until you receive confirmation from me. Understood?"

"Aye-aye, marm." With a metallic click, Vardon snapped the last piece into place, flicking the katar back and forth in his hand before sliding it into its thigh holster. "Fortunately, the virus I slipped onto Belladonna's scroll seems to be working. As soon as she turns it back on, we'll have ears in that room."

"Adam-"

"I'll keep working with Wilt and Blush." As he spoke, one hand reached down to rest on the weapons strapped to his side. "I'm not at ... my level from _before_ , but-"

The blonde woman cut him off with a wave. "Frankly, Adam, your presence is worth far more at the moment than your combat ability. Go."

* * *

She woke reluctantly, blurry eyes staring up at the ceiling of the darkened room. It was night, or near enough, and no light snuck beneath the drawn blinds that blocked the windows. Shadows lurked in darkened corners, broken by dim power lights and the screens of the medical equipment. Ruby lay beside her against the bed, one hand still grasped in hers, even in sleep.

Painstakingly slowly, she turned her throbbing head, blinking sleep from her lashes as she stared about the room. It was blessedly quiet, only the occasional whirr or beep coming from the machines scattered around the bed. She could hear muted voices slipping under the door, the muffled impression of footsteps and conversations in the hall outside, soft enough that she could still hear the slow rattle of breath coming from the other girl's throat.

She stayed there for some time, absolutely still, looking down at the girl on the bed and watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. For a long time, she couldn't think of anything else, just Ruby asleep at her side. For a long time, she watched, her chest tight at the thought of losing her, at the memory that she _had_ almost lost her. That she could _still_ lose her, especially if the events of the last few weeks were any indication of what was waiting for them.

Deciding that it was time, past time, she tested the motion in her left arm, wriggled her fingers, and squeezed.

The girl resting on the bed stirred, head slowly pulling itself off the sheets, sleep-darkened eyes blinking drowsily as she tried to focus. Ruby's hand tightened from instinct, suddenly aware of the hand that was now squeezing back.

Her eyes darted to Weiss' face, filled with hope and fear. Fear that it had just been her imagination, that she would look up and find Weiss still sleeping. Hope that maybe, this once, she would be awake. Grey eyes swam with tears as they met sparkling blue, a choked sob wracking her throat as she spoke.

The door swung open and Yang and Blake rushed into the room, practically stumbling over each other in their rush to see what had prompted Ruby's shout. Weiss watched as the panic on their faces turned to relief, and relief to joy as they saw their teammate awake on the hospital bed, Ruby's face already buried against her uninjured shoulder.

They crowded around her good side, careful not to jostle her. Weiss could hardly keep track of everything they said, Blake soft and low, Yang chirping loudly and constantly. She got the jist, however, and despite the painkillers dulling her mind, was awake enough to smile back, desperately trying not to laugh.

"One at a time," she managed, her throat rough and dry. Still smiling, Blake went for water, leaving the sisters to crowd against the bedside.

"I really am glad you're okay," Yang said, one arm squeezing Ruby's shoulder as she beamed down at the heiress.

Coughing to clear her throat, Weiss winced at the pain, grateful when Blake returned to press a thick plastic straw against her lips. Swallowing, the injured girl looked back at Yang and smiled.

"Yeah, well, it looks like the shooter had pretty 'shotty' aim."

The blonde froze for a moment, jaw dropped in disbelief, and even Blake snickered, sleep-deprivation and relief making the awful pun far funnier than it had any right to be.

"Weiss, I have never been happier to hear you fail at a joke."

Weiss smiled back, happy to let the moment linger just a little while longer, and growing increasingly aware of the brunette with the death-grip on her left arm.

"Yang, Blake ... sorry, but could we have the room?"

The two girls shared a knowing look, a wry smile slipping across Yang's mouth. "We'll be right outside."

Weiss waited until the door had closed before turning to the girl crying into her hospital gown. "It's okay, Ruby. I'm okay."

Red-tipped hair flicked as the younger woman shook her head, pulling just far enough away to stare down at Weiss. Tears ran from dark-ringed eyes, rolling down her cheeks and falling onto the bed. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, although Weiss was willing to bet that, if given a mirror, she wouldn't look much better.

"Please don't leave," Ruby choked out, half-sobbing as her chest shook.

"I won't."

" _Please_. I can't lose you again. And I know you have other stuff to deal with and your company's important but I don't want you to leavetheteamsopleasepleasedon't-"

"Ruby," Weiss cut her off, her shoulder throbbing violently as she raised her voice. Anything she would have said died in a bout of coughing, each followed by another stab of agony from her shoulder.

A hand brought the straw to her mouth again, and Weiss managed to hold back her coughing long enough for Ruby to help her sip. Her throat clearer and her shoulder still aching, she turned back to the taller girl and reached up to grip her shoulder. "I promise, I _will_ be fine, and I'm not going _anywhere_. Okay?"

Ruby's worried expression belied the little nod she gave her, but Weiss let the matter rest, too tired and pained to do anything else. Her arm flopped down onto the bed, landing next to small, single-button remote, a cord running from it to the IV hanging from the bed. She briefly thought about pressing it, of letting a dose of what could only be pain medication numb the newfound agony in her shoulder.

She discarded the thought just as quickly. More meds would probably mean sleep, and she wasn't about to do that to Ruby, not now.

The two sat in relative silence, Ruby periodically tipping the bottle towards her. Finally, she broke the silence, looking down towards the floor as she spoke.

"Winter said you were leaving."

Weiss cursed the fact that she could barely move, could barely speak without setting off the wound in her shoulder. She _wanted_ to wrap her arms around the taller girl, hold her till she was convinced, but ...

She settled on gripping Ruby's hand in hers, squeezing it until grey eyes finally looked up through red-streaked bangs.

"I'd be more tactful about this, but ... meds." The heiress smiled, hand still holding the younger woman's, doing what little she could to comfort Ruby.

"I'm ... I've been thinking about selling it for a while. That's why I kept visiting the company, why I left to talk to my lawyer a few days ago." She angled her head, dipping down as far as she dared, trying to make Ruby look her in the eye. She needed her to trust her, to believe her completely, without any doubt. "The plan was to take the position my mother left, sell my shares, and never see that place again. It would take some time, maybe a month or two, but I'm _not_ leaving the team."

Weiss waited on baited breath, watching Ruby give one slow nod, followed by another, and another. "Why couldn't you just _tell_ me?"

"It was going to be a surprise," she winced, as much from her shoulder as her annoyance at how sheepish she sounded. Not that she didn't deserve it.

"I wanted to tell you after it was over. I just thought it would ..." her voice tried to crack, pain and the need to make Ruby understand nearly making her lose control. She swallowed, trying to steady her nerves. "I thought it would make best thank-you gift I could get you."

"For _what_?" Ruby squeaked, a half-choked laugh slipping from her throat. "You nearly gave me a heart attack so you could thank me for a dress?"

"No," Weiss shook her head, a sad little smile slipping across her lips. "For not hating me."

* * *

By the time Blake returned, Ruby was fast asleep, her head cradled in Weiss' lap. With the younger girl's help, the heiress had managed to sit a little higher, propped up against the pillows of the bed. One hand gently slid down through Ruby's chin-length hair, playing with the reddened tips before smoothing the dark locks against her head.

"Did she sleep at all while I was out?" Weiss asked, a small smile flickering across her lips as Ruby snuggled a little closer to her leg.

Blake settled back against the sofa. "Not until the second night, and then only about ten minutes at a time. She actually threatened a nurse when they tried to check her ribs."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Weiss' lips. "I shouldn't find that cute, should I?"

"It's pretty cute."

Weiss nodded, still stroking the younger girl's hair. "Thank you. For taking care of everything."

"It's fine," Blake shrugged. "Ruby and Yang have each other, but I don't have any family left, apart from you guys. And you-"

"Winter has enough to deal with, and I don't have any other family I trust," Weiss finished. It was even truer now than it had been before.

While Ruby slept, Blake filled in the broad sketches of the past four days. Weiss nodded and stroked Ruby's hair, only half-listening after the reveal that her father was dead. It was an odd feeling. For all she'd disliked the man, even _hated_ him, it was strange to imagine a world without him. One without him hounding her every move, without his constant disapproval.

It was a feeling she could definitely grow to like. Still, to wake up and find him gone … well, she supposed she could live without some sense of closure.

"Sorry?" she asked, hearing a question and not remembering what it was.

"I need a way to contact the managers of your trust," Blake repeated. "Something about this whole thing – it's been bothering me. It _could_ be nothing, but ..."

"My scroll," Weiss managed, trying not to cough.

"I can get it from your room. The rest of us could probably use a change of clothes anyway."

Weiss nodded, turning back to the sleeping girl as Blake rose to leave. Ruby deserved her rest. Then again ... well, she probably wouldn't complain.

"Ruby?" she said softly, shaking the sleeping girl's shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"I've been lying in the same spot for four days. Could you?"

The younger girl nodded, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and slid her arm under Weiss' knees, the other wrapping around the small of her back. Painstakingly slowly, she lifted, wincing as Weiss hissed in pain. With Ruby's help, they managed to eventually shift Weiss to the side of the bed.

"Better?"

"Much." Weiss reached out for the remote, and pressed the button that delivered another round of pain meds to her system. Waiting for them to take effect, she tried to relax against the pillows, and saw Ruby move back to the chair out of the corner of her eyes.

"Wait," Weiss stared up at the girl in the red cloak, her hand resting on the empty half of the bed. "If you want, you could ..."

She swallowed, her vision swimming a little as she tried to meet Ruby's eyes. She had no right to ask this, but ...

"Don't leave me either, okay?"

Nodding, Ruby clambered carefully over the bars of the bed, still-clothed as she slipped into the place the heiress had just vacated.

"Sorry if I smell," Weiss said, her eyes drifting shut. "I'm told I've been here for a while."

Ruby snuggled a little closer against her good side and leaned in to kiss her cheek. Then with a sigh, Ruby tucked her head against the heiress' arm and closed her eyes.

"Right now," she whispered, her breath soft against Weiss' skin. "I soooo don't care."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after Ryn's Hospital AU comic came out a little while ago, I figured I didn't need any more tragedy in my life. Now, the next chapter will be the end of this 'arc' of Premium Well. What that means: after chapter 24, things will start moving a little quicker and, with Weiss' recovery, hopefully getting a little cheerier.
> 
> If you can, please take a second to tell me what you all thought – I'm curious to see what worked for who, and honestly, I'm not really happy with the flow for this particular chapter. Probably before the very end, I'll go back through and do a full edit of everything, just to tighten it up.
> 
> Also, in case you're curious, some additional information and some art for this story (a bit about the villains, examples of what I based their weapons on, etc.) has been posted to my Tumblr since it's impossible to post here. If you're interested, you can find it at RedSuitWriter. (Or, just search for the #Premium Well Redux tag)
> 
> Please review!


	24. Tequila Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY makes a plan to find who is hunting them and Blake helps Weiss make a decision about her future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're baaack! Sorry for the (long) delay. Hopefully, some of you enjoyed the other stories I've been working on in the meantime. Also, there's some art since the last update! DashingIceCream was nice enough to let me do a commission for some art of the villains. So, if you want to see the bad guys – Mal, Lloyd, and Vardon/Robert/Robin/Verdir (he uses a lot of names) – in all their glory, go search for Premium Well Redux on my tumblr: RedSuitWriter.

_Tequila and orange juice over ice, and let the grenadine sink to the bottom. Nice and easy, and a good way to start the night._

Blake stared through the blinds out onto the snow-covered grounds. Last night's powder drifted down past the window, falling from the rooftop to dust the plants lining the path below. The road and the ambulance bay were clear – they had to be in case of an emergency – but everything else was wrapped in a soft blanket of white.

"It's pretty," Yang said at her shoulder. "But it feels like it's been winter for three goddamn years."

Blake snorted and turned back to the others. Yang stood nearby, close enough to be a comfort without smothering her. Ruby was still seated by the bed – _her favorite place for the past few days –_ holding Weiss' hand in hers. Blake had to fight not to smile. The girl in the red cloak was perched in her chair, as close as she could get to Weiss without giving up and just lying in bed beside her. It was sweet, especially after how distraught she'd looked when they feared Weiss wouldn't pull through.

She was about to say something when a loud growl split the room, resounding off the walls while Ruby's face turned red.

"Come on, Ruby," Blake said, biting her cheek to keep from chuckling. "When was the last time you ate?"

"... you could bring me something."

"Not a chance," Yang smiled, stepping away from the window and tugging on her sister's cloak. "Stretch your legs, take a shower, get food, and then you can come back."

Ruby let Yang pull her up, and then just stood there at Weiss' side, still holding tight to her hand.

"I will be here with her the entire time," Blake promised, squeezing Ruby's shoulder.

Ruby looked over at her, blinked, and looked back down in time to see Weiss nod. "Go on. Get something to eat."

The younger girl swallowed, and finally let go. Gathering her cloak around her, she let Yang guide her out the door, grabbing her overnight bag as she left.

Blake waited until Ruby left before taking her seat at Weiss' bedside. The heiress was sitting up and typing on her scroll one-handed – thanks mainly to the remote that raised and lowered the bed. She was still too weak to move much on her own, and when she did even the drugs weren't enough to dull the pain from her shoulder. Not that it stopped her from trying. _Then again,_ Blake thought. _It wouldn't be Weiss if she did anything else._

"Any news?" Blake asked.

"Just something from the board of directors." Weiss flicked the screen with her fingertip and the message vanished, the screen dimming as she set it aside. "It doesn't matter."

Blake nodded absently. _Meaning she doesn't want to talk about it. Fair enough, I guess. Time to change the subject._

"I saw the look on Ruby's face when Dr. Yabai left," she said, keeping her voice soft. "How bad is it?"

"Not as bad as it could be, actually. The bullet broke several ribs and blew out a good portion of my shoulder," Weiss said. "They had to put in several pins to keep the bones from puncturing a lung. Not that I'm complaining. Apparently I'm just lucky to be alive. The bullet just missed hitting anything that would have killed me instantly."

She let out a short laugh, and glanced back down at the scroll. "I think the word the doctor used was 'miracle.'"

Blake blinked. Weiss sounded ... distant. Matter-of-fact. Like it happened to someone else. "And the recovery time?"

"A few months of aura treatments and as little movement as I can manage. After that, several more of physical therapy before I get somewhere close to ninety percent function back. Maybe a year and a half total."

"But you will recover."

"Eventually. Luckily for my career, the bastard shot my right shoulder." Weiss laughed again, but there wasn't any humor in it. "Good thing I'm not right-handed."

Her scroll pinged. Weiss glanced at it for a second and glared down at the flashing message before clicking the power button.

"Who is that?" Blake asked. "If it's the press, I can-"

Weiss shook her head. "No, nothing like that. The board is trying to convince me to make a decision regarding SDC stock."

"Of course." That made a lot of sense actually. Weiss' father had been the president of the company. He would have subordinates to handle much of the day-to-day workings of the company, but he still had a large impact on his company, especially as the SDC's public face. His death was hitting the company hard. Especially its stock price.

Weiss nodded and gripped her scroll, fingers tightening around the edge. "They haven't said as much, but I think many of them would prefer it if I sold my shares."

That ... was one way to do it. If Weiss' father was the one who put out the hit on her, then his death _should_ have ended their problems. Hopefully, it meant that the assassins behind the attempts on her life and on Weiss' would vanish back into the woodwork. Selling her shares and moving on with her life would let Weiss put all of this behind her. She could be done with her father, her family. She could rest, heal. Go back to her life, but ...

But, Weiss had always said she wanted to redeem her family's company. That she didn't want his actions to be her family's legacy. But, there was no guarantee that whoever bought up her shares would be any better than Schnee. True, it would be difficult to be worse, but it still wouldn't make the company's business practices any less unethical. It wouldn't help the Faunus who had little choice but to work in the company's mines. It wouldn't fix her father's mistakes.

 _But she shouldn't have to._ Blake fought not to growl. It wasn't fair to put that on Weiss. She wasn't responsible for her father's crimes, even if Weiss thought otherwise. And if this wasn't just about her father, if the attacks on the team were about more than Morden Schnee's prejudice and greed, taking control of the company would just put Weiss in more danger. _So am I saying this because it's what she needs, or because it's what I want her to do?_

She sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "You're going to hate me for this."

"After everything we've all been through," Weiss looked over and gave her a tired smile. "I doubt it."

Blake laughed, even if it sounded feeble, and looked over at Weiss sitting in the hospital bed, the bandages around her shoulder showing beneath the neck of her hospital gown. She still looked pale and weak, which wasn't all that surprising after losing all that blood and not eating solid food in days. But her eyes were the same. Ice-blue, and as bright and hard as ever. Even critically injured and completely taken out of commission, that didn't change.

"You should take over Schnee Dust," the Faunus woman said, her mind made up.

Weiss blinked, her eyes wide in surprise. "You know I can't just walk in and declare myself the president."

"No, but thanks to your mother, you own over half the company. You're already the majority shareholder. One emergency board meeting and you probably could put yourself in charge."

Weiss frowned and stared down at her scroll. Clearing her throat, Blake leaned forward and braced her elbows against her knees. It wasn't much, but at least it put her on the same level as the heiress. Weiss was sensitive enough about her height. _Better to have a conversation like this on the same level._

"Look, Weiss. I checked the market. SDC shares _dropped_ when the news about your father broke."

"How bad?"

"About eight percent. It's still falling." Blake kept her eyes trained on Weiss' face, waiting to see how the other girl was taking the news. "That's probably why they're calling you. Whoever runs your company is scrambling to work damage control, and part of the problem is no matter what they do, at any point you could step in and take over."

There was a long pause before Weiss spoke. When she did, the edge returned to her voice. "Fine. _If_ I wanted to, I could take control. What's your point?"

"My point is the SDC has resources we can use. Because if these people come after either of us again, we need that kind of support." Blake sighed and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. "You need time to heal. You need to recover and it'll take time for you to get back to fighting shape. Plus, what about your employees? You could do a lot of good there, even if you have to drag the rest of the company kicking and screaming to do it."

"I can't leave the team." Weiss said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I promised Ruby."

"Schnee Dust has always hired huntsmen and huntresses. Protecting shipments, supervising sensitive projects, protecting key individuals – there'd be plenty of work for three dedicated hunters, and you'd have someone to actually watch your back."

"... you really think Ruby could handle board meetings and conference calls without dying of boredom?"

Blake shrugged. Weiss had a point – Ruby wasn't really the type to handle that kind of protection detail. The girl loved being a huntress too much, being able to run out into the woods and hunt down the Grimm. "So rotate between us. I'll take the business meetings and boring functions, and Ruby can handle the wild forays and long business trips. That way, Ruby enjoys her work, the sisters get some bonding time, and I work with Yang when Ruby's with you."

Watching to see how Weiss reacted, Blake reached out and laid her hand on the heiress' arm. "Weiss, we're stuck, with an enemy we can't find and no resources to level the playing field. Right now, you taking over the SDC is our best move."

When Weiss looked up, she seemed more tired than before. The dark rings under her eyes looked deeper, and some of the strength in her expression had faded.

"Blake, I _like_ being a huntress. Even with the awful beds and the crap assignments and Yang dousing me in Taijitu guts, I _like_ it." She swallowed, and for the first time since she woke, Blake saw what looked like defeat in her eyes. "I don't want to stop."

"I know," Blake said, her voice gentle. "Would it help if I said you could quit when all this is done?"

"I just ... I don't want it to end."

Blake smiled sadly. "Everything ends, Weiss. If you're lucky, what comes next is even better."

* * *

"I still don't get why _I_ have to be here."

Fighting the urge to strangle him, Blake looked over at the whining detective. Vardon was leaning back against the wall of Weiss' hospital room, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Gone was the outfit from the party, replaced by a green shirt and dark vest. He looked more the part tonight, the off-kilter tie and the subtle reek of cigarettes completing the look for the disgruntled detective.

At least it matched the change in the rest of them. Everyone – Ruby, Yang, even Weiss – all looked harder, sharper. As if someone had distilled them down, ground off the veneer of the party and the past few weeks, leaving them with just what they needed to get the job done. Crescent Rose lay by Ruby's side, polished and cleaned and ready to fire. Yang looked like she was ready to fight at a moment's notice, and even Weiss looked stronger, more stable.

Blake saw Yang's fists start clenching out of the corner of her eye and stepped forward. Better to deal with the problem now before the blonde broke Vardon's nose.

"You're here," she growled, "Because you still owe me. Because even after everything you pulled, Weiss still thinks you might be of some use. If she didn't, I'd be just as happy to hand you over to Yang."

Vardon glanced over at the blonde and swallowed.

"... fine." Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a thick folder, the elastic ties just barely holding it shut. "Here. Everything I had on you lot and daddy dearest."

Blake took the folder and let it drop onto the windowsill. If she was being honest, she really didn't except to find anything new in Vardon's files. If he'd had any useful cards, he would have played them back before the attack on the Schnee manor. But there was always the chance that he had something he hadn't seen, or just hadn't realized what it meant. And if not, there was still some value in knowing what the board knew about the four of them.

"So," Vardon cleared his throat at gazed around the room. "What exactly do you need me for?"

There was a long pause before the other three girls looked to Weiss. They'd agreed she should be the one to handle this. Vardon hadn't spoken with her before, and more importantly, it was her family, her company that was in the middle of this mess. Plus, the threat of bringing the full wrath of the Schnee family down upon him couldn't hurt. The heiress was sitting up, less under her own power than the mechanical bed and the stack of pillows Ruby had carefully planted behind her back. But at least it made her seem healthier, stronger. _And that might just have to be enough._

Weiss reached out with her left hand and took her scroll off the nightstand. She took a second to flick through whatever she was reading, making the ersatz detective sweat until she finally looked up at him.

"Mr. Wight. According to my friend, you managed to sneak into a party at my estate, uncover at least part of my father's involvement in her attempted murder and mine, and helped her take down the man who shot me." Blake saw Ruby swallow as Weiss spoke, the hand holding onto Crescent Rose getting a little tighter.

"All this after being hired to surveil me by the SDC's board of directors."

"In my defense, it was just a job."

"So is this," Weiss hit a few more keys before flipping her scroll around and holding it out. "Mr. Wight, I am putting you on retainer. From this point on, you work for me."

Vardon looked between Blake and the girl on the bed, before slowly making his way over and taking the scroll from her fingers. His brows furrowed as he scanned through the contract. Blake watched him rather than the scrolling text – she'd checked over the contract with Weiss when they were still coming up with their plan. She knew what he'd find. The non-disclosure agreement, the exclusivity clauses, and she had a feeling he wouldn't be too happy about it.

After a minute, Vardon glanced back up at Weiss, still holding onto the scroll. "... and if I refuse?"

"Apart from me informing the cops that you stole critical evidence from a crime scene?" Weiss asked archly. "You would be surprised how easy it is to ruin an investigative agency."

There was silence while the detective stared into Weiss' eyes. Blake watched and waited – she knew what was going through his head. Balancing his judgment of Weiss, the risks to himself, trying to guess exactly how hard she could make this for him and how much of Weiss' threats were a bluff.

Finally, he sighed, and scribbled his name on the screen. "What exactly do you want?"

Weiss took the scroll back, a short flicker of pain crossing her face as she moved, and laid it on the bed.

"You're going to find the son of a bitch who makes those masks."

"... you're really going after them," Vardon whispered, the disbelief plain in his voice.

Weiss nodded slightly. "If this ended with my father, then we shouldn't have any problems."

"And if it didn't? There's plenty of people who get paid up front – the kind who'd still come after you just to keep their reputations."

"That's what I'm planning on," Weiss said, keeping her eyes on Vardon even as Ruby slowly slid her hand atop the heiress'. "They didn't finish the job. So, if they haven't called off the hit, leaving the hospital should pull them out of hiding."

"No offense, but wasn't that exactly what you tried to do with Blake?" Vardon glanced around the room before nodding pointedly at Weiss' shoulder. "Really didn't turn out well. Maybe it'd be better to just lay low. Let them think they won-"

"No," Weiss cut him off. "I'm not going to hide out somewhere and wait for them to hunt me down. We take the fight to them."

"See, there's my point. You don't even know who 'they' are. Whoever they are, they were willing to sic some psycho on tall, dark, and furry over here just so you'd head to the estate in the first place."

Heat splashed across the room, and Blake looked over to find Yang glowering over at the detective, her eyes already a brilliant shade of red.

"Call her that," Yang growled. "One more time."

Vardon gave the blonde a long look before turning back to Weiss. "My point is they clearly don't have a problem with operating in public, or with killing anyone who gets in their way. Look, for all we know, they've moved on and they won't care Weiss is alive. They probably only killed Papa Schnee after he risked exposing whoever was controlled that sniper."

"Or they're plotting another attack right now," Blake said softly from her corner. "You really think we'll take that chance?"

Vardon glanced around at the four of them. Blake knew what he saw – Yang's eyes were still red, Ruby was looking at Weiss, not him, and the heiress herself had her jaw set in an expression that just screamed 'stubborn.' _In about ten seconds,_ she thought, _he's going to realize there's no way he's talking us down._

Blake could see the gears turning in his head as he met her eyes.

"You're picking a fight you might not have to."

"Doesn't matter." Blake shook her head. "If we do nothing, they may still come after us. If we hunt them down, if we go to the SDC, there's a chance of making ourselves a target again. Either way, we have to deal with them. The company resources just give us much better odds."

He held her gaze, then shrugged and headed for the door.

"Find out who makes those masks, Mr. Wight," Weiss said, her tone making it perfectly clear he was dismissed. "As I said, you work for me now. Frankly, you don't have much of a choice."

* * *

"Well?"

"Well what, Mal?" Robin snapped at the short blonde woman. "Miss Schnee decided she wants her place on the throne. Apparently, it wouldn't be 'sporting' to play dead and wait it out."

Stripping out of his coat, he flung it onto a nearby desk, and plopped down angrily into a nearby chair. Fortunately, there were plenty of empty desks and office chairs scattered around the nearly abandoned floor. Their current safehouse was an old, abandoned office Mal had found a few miles from the hospital. Vardon would have preferred something closer, somewhere he could scout from without having to deal with the hassle, but the hospital's isolation made that difficult.

 _And it looks like 'difficult' is gonna be the goddamn theme for this op._ He sighed, letting some of the frustration ebb. This would have been so much easier if the girls had decided to just lie low. Now there was a whole other set of hoops he had to jump through, had to handle to keep the plan going. _And there's nothing more annoying than a chess piece that doesn't follow orders._

"What's their status?" Mal asked him, adjusting the collar of her coat as she stared down at the floor plans on the desk beside her.

"They're already planning to move her from the hospital. Wouldn't tell me how – smart move on their part. Looks like the idea is to get her to the SDC, try to get a foothold in the company."

"Well, we can't have that."

"My men can handle this," Adam growled from the other end of the room. Wilt and Blush lay out before him, his fingers playing over the blade as he watched the other two.

"Yeah, because your men have always been _so_ reliable," Robin snapped.

Adam looked at him through the slits in his mask before turning back to Mal. "We set up an ambush. There aren't many ways to leave a place like that, not in her condition. Either Schnee takes a private car service, or she charters one of the airships. Not too difficult to set up contingencies in either case."

The blonde woman glanced over at Adam, and gave him a long, searching look before turning to Vardon. "Can you tail them?"

Robin shook his head. "They know my face. If one of 'em spots me, it'll blow what cover I have. Belladonna'd spot the bull a mile off, and we both know you won't expose yourself by going out in the field. I could try to get myself invited, but they'd be suspicious if anything happened."

She nodded and started rolling up her blueprints before setting them aside. "Then Adam's best bet is taking them out in-transit while she's still weak."

Robin couldn't help but snort. "You know we wouldn't have this problem if your pet hadn't botched the kill in the first place."

"Schnee failed to inform us that he'd used bullet-resistant glass. It threw off his aim for the one shot that mattered."

"Oh, and he would have felt _so_ bad about taking another shot at her."

Mal slowly turned, staring out from beneath her bangs at the fake detective. "Your point, Robert?"

"My point is we could have avoided all of this if Lloyd did his damn job. Or I could have put two in Miss Schnee myself," Robin sighed and nodded his head over at Adam. "No offense to Mr. Broody over here, but maybe it's time to stop being careful with our resources."

The Faunus started to his feet, hand already on his sword before Mal raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks. Robin had to keep himself from smiling – Adam had always been easy to bait – even if the ice-cold tone of the blonde's voice made it very clear she wasn't in the mood for whatever issues the two men had.

"Fine. Grab a mask and go with him."

"Belladonna will recognize my katars. They're not exactly your average weapon."

Mal gave him a long level look. Slowly, she stepped towards him, and reached into the pocket of her coat. Robin felt his legs tense, ready to duck out of the way as she drew her knuckle duster revolvers from her coat. Then her eyes hardened, and she held them out to him, grip-first.

"Congratulations. Belladonna wants to find who sent the hitmen after her, we'll give her she wants. And Robert," she smiled coldly. "Don't fuck it up."

* * *

Weiss' scroll pinged, making all four of them twitch in their chairs. Shaking her head, the heiress reached over and thumbed the power button.

"More bad news?" Blake asked, her brow furrowed.

Weiss shook her head and finished scanning through the message before looking up at her friend. "Good news, actually. I think we just got our ace in the hole."


	25. Corpse Reviver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls put their plan into action. Yang spirits Weiss off to the SDC, and gets a chance for some sorely-deserved revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already, please go check out _Premium Well - Reunion_. It's a prologue for this piece for when Blake and Yang meet back up. Also _Fault and Failure_ where Weiss chews out Ironwood for bungling the defense of Vale in Volume 3. Kinda sets the stage for where this AU ends up.

_Two parts cognac, one part apple brandy, and one part sweet vermouth. Designed to bring life into even the most convincing corpses._

"Xiao Long," Adam snarled, cocking his head to the side as he stepped forward. "How's the arm?"

"Just peachy." Yang could hear her teeth grating as she eyed the line of cars blocking the road. White Fang members stood behind the vehicles, guns raised and ready to fire. "How's the chest wound?"

What she could see of Adam's face beneath the mask froze for a second, the mocking smirk sliding off his face. "You're out of options, blondie. Give me the Schnee girl, and you can run on back to that traitorous bitch you call a partner."

Yang's insides went cold. Every instinct she had begged for her to beat every ounce of blood out of the bastard who'd haunted Blake for all these years. For a second, all she could think about was breaking every bone in his body and watching him bleed out on the ground. It would feel great, cathartic, hell, even _healing_. But ...

But that wasn't the smart move to make. _And it's not the plan._

Yang took a breath and let it out, slowly. Adam would get what he deserved, one way or another. But now wasn't the time to lose control.

"Yeah, about that ..."

Taurus took a step forward, his hand dropping down to the sword at his side. "No stalling. Open the doors. Now."

Fists clenched, she grit her teeth and stepped away from her bike. "Alright. Just saying, it's gonna be a little difficult."

Yang gripped the handle to the ambulance door, and smiled.

* * *

_Seven hours earlier_

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Weiss looked over at the girl seated at her side. Ruby was looking better – a shower and a change of clothes tended to do that. A full night's sleep helped. She still looked a little tired, but the dark circles under her eyes were gone. Now ... now she just looked worried.

The heiress sighed and bit her cheek. She knew what Ruby meant, knew the can of worms she'd opened the second she agreed to Blake's idea. The plan made sense, and even Ruby had seen the logic in it when they'd talked about it as a team. It just happened to be the worst possible time for it.

"It's the best plan we have," Weiss said, watching for Ruby's reaction. "I'm not thrilled about the idea either, but it's either the SDC or we try and lay low for nine months."

Ruby swallowed, and if anything, her frown only got deeper. "Weiss, you just woke up a few days ago. The last thing you need is to put yourself in _more_ danger."

"I'm already in danger," Weiss snapped before she could stop herself. Ruby's eyes widened and the younger girl shifted back, the hurt plain on her face. It wasn't much, just an inch or two, but it was enough to make the guilt stab into Weiss like a knife. _Why do I always do this?_

"I'm sorry, Ruby. You're right – I need to heal. But going to the company gives us the resources we need to do that. I can make sure we're protected there. And we won't need to have half the team watching out for us while we sleep." Weiss sighed and reached for Ruby's hand. She still looked downcast, but at least she didn't pull away. "I promised you I wouldn't leave the team. And I won't. I'm not leaving. But I can't fight like this."

"We could find a place. Mistral maybe. Somewhere they won't look for us. I can take care of you while you get better."

Weiss shook her head. "Ruby, if I have to sit at home for the next several months I will completely lose my mind. I need something to do, and if that's not hunting, then ... I could do worse than trying to fix my father's mess. And it means I'll have three very skilled huntresses I can ask to look into things for me. People I know can't be bought."

The younger woman looked at her for a while before giving her a little nod. Only then did she wrap her fingers around Weiss' and squeeze back.

Weiss tried to smile, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. With their trip to the SDC coming up, she needed her wits about her – which meant less painkillers. Which meant more pain. They hadn't taken her off the meds completely, but it was enough that any small movement felt like agony. She tried not to think about how much it would hurt without any drugs at all.

She tried to think about Ruby instead. It was something she'd been doing a lot of these past few days. Apart from when Blake or Yang dragged her off to eat or shower, Ruby hadn't moved from her side. Even then, she always came back with her hair wet, or with a paper bag she shoved her food into so she could eat with Weiss.

Still, she had a feeling this was about more than just Ruby being worried over her. Weiss had known Rose long enough, worked with her, fought beside her. She could tell something else was bothering her, something more than just concerns for Weiss' safety.

"Ruby, what's wrong?" she asked, deciding that the direct approach was for the best. They were running out of time as it was.

Ruby met her eyes for a second, then shook her head and went back to staring at their hands. "It's not important."

"It's important to me."

The younger girl kept her eyes on the blankets, staring down as if they would give her what she needed if she just looked hard enough.

"I'm being silly. Talking about this plan with Blake was a good idea, I just ..." Ruby trailed off and ran her hand through her hair. "I dunno, we're ... we're dating, or that's what you said at the party, anyway. But we're more than just partners so ... I just wish you'd talked to me too."

Weiss kept her eyes on Ruby, waiting for her to look up. To say something. To finish. A part of her wanted to argue – this plan had been Blake's idea to start with, not hers. It wasn't like Weiss had deliberately excluded Ruby. As soon as she and Blake finished their talk, they'd brought it to the team. _Blake was the one who brought it up. Not me. What Ruby's saying, that's not fair-_

 _... maybe it is._ Weiss frowned and thought over the past couple weeks. Ruby ... wasn't wrong. Not completely. She'd kept her plan to sell her stock in SDC to herself – and it made Ruby think she was leaving the team. She'd been so terrified of what Ruby would think of their night together that she almost let it destroy their chances of any sort of relationship. And when she'd first realized how she felt about her, that she was in love with this reckless, cheeky, machine oil-stained huntress, her first thought was that she could _never_ let Ruby know.

"You're right," Weiss said, squeezing the younger girl's hand atop the sheets. "Ruby ... you know that sometimes it takes me a little while to trust people."

Ruby snorted a laugh, but she didn't pull away.

Weiss glared, then shook her head. "I guess I deserve that. Getting me to rely on people is like pulling teeth. I'm trying to say I'm sorry. You know how long it took me to warm up to everyone, even just our team. The way I grew up – you learn to rely on yourself. You have to. So I'm not ... not used to being _with_ someone. I didn't think about talking to you as my ..."

She paused and immediately changed what she'd been about to say. They'd been together less than two weeks. Better to go slow than jump the gun. "As someone I'm with. Not just as my teammate."

Ruby finally looked up and met Weiss' eyes. She still seemed worried, but the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. A small one, but still ... it was a start.

"It's okay. Can't really blame you for having a lot on your mind."

"I'll work on it. And I promise, I'll do everything I can to stay safe."

"I know," Ruby nodded, a note of steel entering her voice. "I'm not leaving your side until you're better."

"Ruby, if you did that, you'd be bored out of your mind," Weiss said. It was nice that Ruby wanted to protect her. Surprisingly nice, actually. Normally, she would have fought tooth and nail against the idea that she needed someone watching out for her. _Then again, I know she knows that. She's not being patronizing, or doubting I can handle myself. She's just scared. Can't blame her for that._

"You're welcome to guard me sometimes, but I'll find missions to keep you guys busy, and I'll stay in contact to make sure they're going well."

"... I'll miss hunting with you," Ruby said softly, reaching out to push a stray lock of hair back behind Weiss' ear. It was a simple gesture, one Ruby had done any number of times, but it still made Weiss lean into her hand, catching it while Ruby's palm was still on her cheek.

"Me too. But it's just until I heal."

"You're sure?"

"Ruby ... if I'm going to do this – if I'm going to try redeeming my family's company – I'm not holding anything back. I'm not stopping until it's done. But when it is, when I know there's someone else who can keep it running, who won't let it slide back into the monstrosity my father made, I promise I'll walk away."

* * *

"I still don't like this."

Yang snorted and jammed the last of her gear into the storage compartment beneath her bike's seat before looking over her shoulder. Blake stood behind her, bracketed by the glass doors leading to the hospital's emergency room. Her brows were furrowed, her arms folded across her chest. Despite this whole plan being her idea in the first place, she'd never liked how the team's roles were split. Especially not with Yang riding vanguard for their little convoy.

She was worried, and Yang couldn't fault her for that. Smiling, she reached over and put her hand on Blake's arm, rubbing gently against her coat. "Like I haven't heard that one before."

"I don't like the idea of not being with you if something goes wrong."

"I know, but I'll be fine. Splitting the group means Weiss is less likely to get attacked." She smiled again, trying to reassure her, and saw the look in Blake's eyes. Pulling the dark-haired girl to her, Yang wrapped Blake in her arms. She held tight – Blake needed to know nothing would happen to her. That unlike almost everyone in Yang's own life, the blonde _would_ come back. _Which is why_ I'm _the one going off on her own, and not you._

"Plus, I want you with Ruby. I know I can trust you to take care of 'em if something goes wrong," Yang said. It was true, mostly. There was no one she trusted more than Blake. _But it also means Ruby will be around to keep_ you _safe._

Blake let out a long sigh and laid her head on Yang's shoulder. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I will."

A car horn sounded, and Yang looked over to find a large red-and-white ambulance slowing to a stop alongside the Hospital emergency bay doors. The blonde gave Blake one last squeeze, then pulled away, blinking her eyes and making sure she was smiling by the time she walked up to the passenger side window.

"I'm really glad you guys could get here so fast."

A short redhead in an EMT uniform looked back at her. Yang had to admit – the disguise was good. She looked the part of a young, overworked paramedic ... except for the massive grenade launcher currently lying across her lap.

"Ehh," Nora Valkyrie shrugged and smiled back at her. "We weren't _that_ busy."

"You needed our help." The EMT driving the ambulance leaned forward so he could see around Nora's head. Ren nodded, his pink eyes looking out solemnly from beneath black bangs. "That's enough for us."

"Plus, Weiss said we could blow _anything_ up, so of course we had to come."

Yang snorted and rolled her eyes. Yanking on the door handle, she swung the side door open and half-caught Nora when the smaller woman jumped out of the ambulance for a hug. It was good to see them both – and Yang found her smile getting a lot less forced. Having them both along for the ride ... _now_ they had a damn good chance of pulling this off.

"Okay," Yang laughed and set Nora down, only for her to rush over and give Blake the same treatment.

"Let's load the gear in the ambulance first. We need to get the rig set up."

"I'll go get your passenger." Blake said quietly, disentangling herself from Nora as Ren came around the front of the ambulance.

Fortunately, with the three of them working together, it only took about five minutes to get everything set up. They finished long before the elevator at the far end of the hall, far beyond the glass doors, finally came to a stop. Three figures came out, clustered around a rolling gurney with the unmistakable shape of a body lying atop it. A sheet hid the body lying beneath it – it wasn't much, but it might make it that much harder to tell who they were rolling out into the ambulance. Hopefully anyone watching would think they were just transporting a corpse to a morgue. Or they didn't want their 'patient' exposed to the cold. It might not fool a trained assassin, but at least the paparazzi wasn't bothering them.

Blake came out first, glancing around the emergency bay on the off chance someone was watching them. Satisfied they were alone, she pulled the gurney out through the doors, with Ruby pushing the other end of the rolling bed. The third figure, Dr. Yabai, held the door open until the two girls were outside, wished them luck, and headed back into the hospital.

Yang watched it all from the back bumper of the ambulance, her knee bouncing with nervous energy. She knew what they needed to take their time, why Blake wasn't trying to rush things. But it still rankled her. She hated waiting like this, knowing someone _would_ be coming and having to sit still while the others wheeled gurney down the ramp.

Coming to her feet, Yang went to Blake's side and gave her one last hug. They'd said everything that needed saying, and Yang wasn't interested in tempting fate with promises of 'next time' or of conversations she wanted to have. She smiled, saw the same 'worried but trying to be supportive' smile on Blake's face, and went to nudge Ruby in the ribs.

"Come on," she said, nodding towards the corpse. "Go say goodbye."

Ruby blinked, lost in thought, before her eyes re-focused. "Oh. R-right."

Gingerly, Ruby stepped over the gurney, and laid a hand on the blanket. "Be careful, okay?"

The other girl nodded from beneath the sheets, a hand reaching out to pat Ruby's. They stayed for a moment, until Ren and Nora gingerly lifted the gurney into the ambulance, and closed the doors behind them.

Putting her arm around Ruby's shoulders, Blake led the younger huntress back inside. Yang watched them go, watched them step back through those doors, all the way down the hall until the elevator closed behind them.

Shaking her head, Yang mounted her bike and tugged her motorcycle helmet down over her head. Now wasn't the time to wish she could be there, at Blake's side or comforting her sister. She had things to do, and people to break if they tried getting in her way. That part at least, would be fun.

"The heiress is in the van." Nora chirped, her voice coming from the earbud in the side of the blonde's helmet.

Yang rolled her eyes and keyed the ignition. "Shouldn't she be 'the eagle' or something?"

"'The eagle is in the van'? That's just silly," Nora laughed. "Oh! The eagle is in the nest! The coffee is in the pot! The proof is in the pudding!"

"'Heiress' it is. How's the rig looking?"

"It should hold," Ren said before Nora could get ahold of the radio again.

"Good." Yang settled the helmet over her hair and grabbed the handlebars. "I have a nasty feeling this may get bumpy."

With a smile, she slammed her visor down and gunned the engine. The air filled with the squeal of rubber on asphalt, as the Bumblebee kicked and tore off down the road, the red-and-white ambulance lumbering behind her.

* * *

The highway was quiet, nearly abandoned beneath the glow of the street lamps. It was almost silent – the only sound was the purr of Bumblebee's engines beneath her and the thump of tires on the road from the ambulance behind her. Yang could count on one hand all the cars they'd seen in the thirty minutes since they left the hospital. It was still the dead of winter, and no one wanted to be out at night with the threat of ice coating the roads. No one in their right mind, anyway. _But how many huntresses really belong in the 'right mind' category, anyway?_

"You sure they're gonna follow us?" Nora's voice came in over her earbud. Yang smiled grimly, and kept her eyes locked on the road. There was no doubt in her mind that they'd come – no doubt that whoever was hunting Weiss would be lying in wait.

"They'd better. Otherwise you two got all prettied-up for nothing."

Nora's laughter chirped across the radio,

She cut off, the radio going dead. After a second it clicked again, Ren's voice coming over the connection.

"Yang, I have three black vans coming up behind us."

The blonde glanced back over her shoulder. Sure enough, three large, matte-black SUVs were coming up behind them, going well over the speed limit on the rural interstate.

"I see 'em." Yang glanced down at her gauntlets, checking that both were fully loaded. Taking her hands off the handlebars, she punched the air, pumping rounds into the shotgun chambers before tightening her hands back around the handles.

"Remember," she said, her voice tight and raw with adrenaline. "We stop for nothing. Oh, and Nora ..."

"Yeah?"

"These guys tried to kill Weiss. Don't feel like you need to hold back."

Yang shifted her feet and goosed the brake, slipping to the side as the ambulance rushed past her. Killing the acceleration, she dropped back, pulling the bike in a hair-pin turn that would have sent a less experienced rider flying. Eyes locked on the vans, she hit the throttle and roared back down the highway and thumbed the suicide-cruise button, locking the throttle in place. Her hands came off the handlebars, and Yang fired, explosive rounds twinkling against the snowy backdrop before slamming into their pursuers.

The first shot slammed straight into the windshield of the front van. It didn't shatter, but a massive spider-web of cracked split the tinted surface. The second missed – bouncing off the bars mounted on the front of the grill. It dented the metal, and with a normal car it probably would have penetrated, blown out the engine block. _Resistant glass and armor plating aren't part of the normal package you pick out from a dealer ... this is definitely them._

Her third shot finished the work of the first, shattering the damaged screen and detonating inside the front cab of the van. The car swerved, smoke billowing out of its busted windows, then jerked to the side. The other two vans fell back, trying to avoid the lead van as its driver lost control. It kept its momentum, right up until the pint where the tires lost traction with the road. It jerked left one more time, then swerved right – _either overcompensating or the driver just blacked out._

The wheels slipped and the van began to tumble forwards. It rolled, the top edge crushed as it hit the highway, bouncing up into the air and turning into a rolling ball of crumpled metal death. At the speed it was going, there was no way it would stop before Yang hit it – the damaged van was little more than a misshapen cannonball, getting larger and larger as it flew right for her.

Hitting the accelerator, Yang ducked low and swerved to the side, letting the momentum carry the bike over onto its side. Inertia kept them moving forward, sliding right beneath the wrecked van as it sailed overhead. Chrome and metal screeched, scraping along the ground before Yang twisted the bike back into alignment, goosing the throttle as her first kill of the night bounced, tumbled, and crashed behind her.

Not bothering to look, Yang raced straight towards the two remaining vans. Both vehicles' passenger and driver-side windows rolled down, and two faces wearing balaclavas poked out, followed by the snub-noses of four matching submachine guns.

 _No windows but the two in front,_ Yang thought, weaving back and forth as bullets spattered the road around her. _Means the drivers are steering one-handed, and it's only the four of them I have to worry about for now._

Bullets sprayed across the highway, speckling holes into the asphalt. _Amateurs,_ Yang rolled her eyes and hunkered down behind the front of her bike. She'd reinforced the armor plating on Bumblebee's front years ago – with any luck, the few shots that actually found her wouldn't get any farther than the inch-thick metal plating.

She fired twice. Both shots sailed past the gunmen, scraping along the sides of the vans and leaving deep, thick gouges in the new black paint. The two ducked, then started firing again, their aim getting better as Yang closed the distance between them. She stayed down, putting the bulk of her bike between them, counting down the seconds until they caught up. She just needed to get between them. _They can't risk pulling this spray-and-pray crap with their friends in the line of fire._

_Three. Two. One._

Yang drove right between the two, bringing up both fists as she sailed past. One gunman's face – the one in the van on her right – went slack as she passed, horror widening his eyes as he realized what was about to happen. It was still a surprise when Yang's round caught him full in the face, knocking him back and slamming into the other side of the van before detonating. Smoke rushed out through the shattered glass as the van jerked, then slowed – the now-unconscious driver slumped over the wheel.

The van on her left was less lucky. Her shot slammed through the driver's side window, throwing the driver into the passenger-side seat as the shot demolished his aura. The car swerved, screeched as the tires lost their hold on the road, and crashed into the concrete wall bordering the road. The front of the van crumpled, the engine reduced to an unusable blob of metal and wires.

 _Not bad. Two shots, two cars out of commission._ Now, as long as the rest of the night was _this_ easy–

"We've got incoming," Ren's low voice said in her ear. Slowing, Yang jerked her bike around and floored the engine, the thrust throwing her back. Her bike roared back up the highway and was on by the ambulance in seconds, pulling up alongside Nora's window.

Ren wasn't kidding. Another van and what looked like five men on motorbikes were charged towards them, holding their fire to avoid wasting bullets before the got close enough to aim.

Then they got closer, and Yang felt the old rage pooling in her chest. All of them, from the men on the bikes to the driver of the van behind them, wore grey-white masks that covered the upper half of their faces. Little points like fangs jutted down along their cheeks, framing the eye-slits cut into the front. It was a design Yang knew all too well. One she'd thought she would never see again. _It's them. It's really them. Which means ..._

"Hey Yang," Nora shouted as she rolled down her window. "Didn't we beat these guys, like, years ago?"

Yang's heart was pounding in her ears. She ignored it – she needed to focus. "Guess it didn't stick."

She saw the redheaded huntress grin out of the corner of her eye, and aim Magnhild through the window in its grenade-launcher mode

"You got this?" Yang asked, taking her hands off her handlebars to reload.

"Yup!" Even over the roar of the engines, Yang heard the click as Nora chambered a round. "You break the line, I'll knock 'em down."

It took them seconds to close with the first few bikers. Then all hell broke loose, bullets flying as Yang fired and fired again, the red explosive rounds slamming into machinery and knocking a rider or two loose. A few of the White Fang bullets found their mark – her aura took the brunt of it, but it still felt like getting kicked by a horse.

"They're aiming for the tires!" Ren shouted, his voice tight from concentration as he struggled to keep the ambulance juking side-to-side without crashing the ungainly car.

"Come on, Ren. Defensive driving 101!"

"Yang, this ambulance wasn't built to dodge small-arms fire."

"Fine." Yang fired again and grinned as a man went screaming off the overpass as one of Nora's grenades sent him flying. "I'll make a hole. You ram on through."

"Will do."

Revving the engine, Yang tore forward, weaving back and forth as the masked men fired from the bikes ahead. Grenades and shotgun rounds sent them scattering, darting across the road to avoid getting blasted by either of the two huntresses. The van in front had slowed, keeping its rear doors points towards the ambulance as White Fang thugs fired from the windows.

Hitting the throttle, Yang pulled up alongside the left side of the van, timing it so she slid in beneath the window right when the passenger pulled back inside to reload. The window rolled back up as he ducked inside. _They're learning,_ Yang mused. They must have been in contact with the other vans. _Not that it'll save them._

Yang pulled back her right arm, narrowed the metal fingers of her right hand into a wedge and slammed into the glass.

The window buckled, then shattered, the glass flying into the van as the tips of Yang's fingers broke through. The masked man in the back raised his arms to shield his face from the shards, just in time to shriek as Yang grabbed his arm and yanked him through the window. He screamed, then thudded into the ground, bouncing back along the highway.

"Boom!" a chipper voice laughed in her ear. "Another one's gone and another one bites th-"

"Nora!"

"Sorry."

Yang ducked as bullets sprayed from the broken window. She pulled back, ready to slide around and do the same to the other windows, when the pointed end of an RPG poked out past the shattered glass.

Cursing, she floored the accelerator, zipping ahead of the van. She couldn't go back – if that missed her and hit the ambulance ... _focus, Yang. Focus._

She heard the missile rather than saw it. Part of her wanted to look around, at least see it before the rocket-propelled grenade slammed into her. The explosion might not kill her, but it would destroy her bike, and probably her aura along with it.

The proximity sensor on her bike beeped, and Yang swerved to the side, waiting to see the rocket shoot past her.

It didn't.

Giving in, Yang gave one quick glance behind her, and swallowed. The rocket was right on her tail, following her as she weaved across the road.

_Heat-seeking. Shit._

She needed to lose it. Needed to make a tight enough move so it would overshoot her, needed to ...

Yang grinned as the idea came to her. Hitting the brake, she slowed as much as she dared before twisting the bike to the side. She leaned into the turn, tipping the bike. Bumblebee jerked and shuddered, threatening to dump her over and skid out on the road. _And then the RPG gets me. So ... no pressure._

Gritting her teeth, Yang reached out and dug her right hand into the asphalt. Metal screamed as it gouged into the road, tearing a scream of her own from Yang's throat as the maneuver tore at her arm. Pain lanced through her shoulder as the connection between her flesh and the metal appendage strained ... and held.

The arm worked like a pivot. The bike turned tighter than it ever could on its own, whipping around low enough to the ground that the handlebar scraped along the road. The rocket zipped past overhead, shrieking as it sped past her ear. With a howl of a rage and pain, Yang ripped her arm up out of the road and righted her bike, staring down at the black van barreling towards her.

Ignoring the sparks shooting from her arm, she gunned the engine and roared towards the White Fang car. The masked driver looked at her through the wind shield and settled in behind the wheel. He was going to ram her. The bigger, reinforced van would knock her smaller bike aside, rolling over her like any other obstacle in the road.

_Moron._

Kicking the bike up on its back wheel, Yang slammed into the van. The front wheel caught on the engine hood and pulled, yanking her up onto the frame. For a second, the Bumblebee strained, trying to move, trying to find purchase on the van's front. Then, it surged forward, pulled her up and over the windshield and onto the roof of the van.

Yang whooped with victory as she whipped across the roof and bounced back down onto the road, heading back towards the ambulance. Only one biker was left – the rest lay far behind, taken down by Nora's grenades or her own shots.

She didn't even bother to look behind her as the van hit its brakes, screeching as it tried to turn, to double back and catch her. She knew what was coming, the expression that had to be crossing the driver's face as he looked out his window and saw his own rocket flying right back towards him.

The explosion rocked the highway, sending scraps of flaming metal flying everywhere. A chunk of door flew towards her, and Yang dodged, weaving back and forth as she rejoined Ren and Nora on the now-empty road.

"How's your passenger?" she asked, thumbing the radio. Her voice was scratchy and raw, tension and the pain from her arms having taken its toll.

"Doing okay," Nora answered, loading another round into Magnhild. "Everything's stable."

"Good." That was the last thing they needed – to have the ambulance rig come apart halfway through. "That might have been the last of them. So, if another group comes-

"Yang..." Ren cut her off, a note of worry in his voice.

The blonde looked up, saw what waited for them down the road, and swore.

There was nowhere to go. A line two-to-three cars thick lay across the highway, sitting bumper-to-bumper in a makeshift blockade. The entire road was cut off – a single line of cars in their way Yang or the ambulance could have knocked aside. She'd set off a blast, hope to kick one of the car up into the air, and let the ambulance clip another aside as it rushed through. But with the vehicles packed in behind the ones in front, they'd just slam headlong into the next.

"Yang, we can't break through something like that."

"I know," she growled. She'd wanted them to get further, stall a bit longer, but ... "Ren, do it."

"Has it been enough time?"

"It's gonna have to be." Yang tightened her hands on the controls, baring her teeth as she snarled. "Now!"

Rubber screeched against the pavement as Ren slammed the brakes and threw the wheel to the side. Yang sped past before hitting her own brakes, never taking her eyes from the roadblock as the ambulance swerved and spun, screaming to a halt behind her with the unarmored bay doors pointed towards the line of cars.

Finally, everything came to a halt, with Yang and her bike as the only thing between her friends and the White Fang. For a split second, everything was completely still – Yang atop her motorcycle, the White Fang soldiers behind their barricade,

Two of the terrorists stepped to the side, moving further behind cover as a man dressed in a black coat stepped forward. His hair was the color of blood, even more vivid above the white mask that covered the upper part of his face.

"Nora," Yang said quietly. "Remind me to apologize to Blake when this is over."

"Why? You use the laser pointer again?"

Coat flapping behind him, Adam Taurus took his place at the head of the White Fang pack, flanked on either side by rifle-toting thugs. His sheathed blade hung from his left hand, held loosely at his side, but Yang knew it would be take him barely a second to grab the hilt and draw.

A second man stepped out of the crowd and joined Adam at his side. He stood-shoulder to shoulder with the terrorist, dressed in black with a balaclava covering his face, flicking a pair of revolvers in and out of his hands, mounted on a pair of brass knuckles cradled in his fists.

The sound of someone breathing filled her ears. It was quick and panicked, a kind of panting ... and she realized it was coming from herself. Blake had been right. Adam was back and she was right. And the man standing next to him had the same weapons the assassin used when he broke into Blake's place. _No breathing mask ... just the one all White Fang wear. Which means he must have been the person on the other end. The bastard controlling the ones who attacked Blake and Weiss._

_And I didn't believe her. She said Adam was back, and I didn't believe her._

Every fiber of her being wanted to attack, to impart some small measure of the pain Adam had put her through. To beat his friend to a pulp for even thinking about hurting her partner. And this time ... this time she'd kill them herself.

"Xiao Long," Adam snarled, cocking his head to the side as he stepped forward. "How's the arm?"

"Just peachy." Yang could hear her teeth grating as she eyed the line of cars blocking the road. White Fang members stood behind the vehicles, guns raised and ready to fire. "How's the chest wound?"

What she could see of Adam's face beneath the mask froze for a second, the mocking smirk sliding off his face. "You're out of options, blondie. Give me the Schnee girl, and you can run on back to that traitorous bitch you call a partner."

Yang's insides went cold. Every instinct she had begged to beat every ounce of blood out of the bastard who'd haunted Blake for all these years. For a second, all she could think about was breaking every bone in his body and watching him bleed out on the ground. It would feel great, cathartic, hell, even _healing_. But ...

But that wasn't the smart move to make. _And it's not the plan._

Yang took a breath and let it out, slowly. Adam and his assassin would get what they deserved, one way or another. But now wasn't the time to lose control.

"Yeah, about that ..."

Taurus took a step forward, his hand dropping down to the sword at his side. "No stalling. Open the doors. Now."

Fists clenched, she grit her teeth and stepped away from her bike. "Alright. Just saying, it's gonna be a little difficult."

Yang gripped the handle to the ambulance door, and smiled.

She threw the door open and hellfire rained out on the White Fang thugs, the heavy bullets chewing through their makeshift roadblock. Round after round fired from the open doors, sending sparks and shards of metal flying. The nearest White Fang troops went flying, groaning as the bullets slammed into their auras and tossed them to the ground. Adam dived aside, rolling until he vanished behind one of the cars, safely out of sight.

Yang joined in, throwing shot after shot towards the line of cars, hitting anywhere the machine gun bullets didn't. A second later, grenades bounced into the line, lodging between cars and blowing them apart, joined by the spatter of submachine rounds as Ren and Nora joined Yang at the back of the ambulance. She nodded and the two broke off, using the suppressing fire from Yang and the ambulance to get to a better position.

The cars at the front of the blockage sagged and fell, filling the air with the sound of tires popping. Bits of fenders and doors fell off as the bullets ate through them, until finally the lead car simply fell apart, leaving behind nothing but a smoking wreck. Every so often, one of the Fang would poke his head up, trying to get a shot off, only to duck back down as the chaingun, Yang's gauntlets, Magnhild, or Ren's pistols spattered rounds in their direction.

Finally, the firing stopped. The machine gun roar ceased, and the air went silent except for the little tinkling clicks as the barrels cycled.

Inside the ambulance, beret perched atop her head, stood Coco Adel. The brunette huntress already had her shades perched on the end of her nose, her hands gripping the handles of a gold-trimmed chaingun, its tripod riveted onto the ambulance floor.

Coco grinned beneath her glasses, white teeth flashing as slid another round into the chamber. There was no humor in it, just grim determination and no small amount of anger.

"Wrong heiress, asshole."

The sound of a revving chaingun split the air again, followed by shouts as the first rank of attackers tried desperately to move out of the way.

* * *

Ten minutes later, and it was over. The White Fang were gone, run off by the combined power of four hunters and the knowledge that they'd been tricked.

Chunks of metal and pieces of what once were cars littered the highway, covered with bullet holes and scorch marks. No bodies – Adam and his men had taken their injured with them. Using the roadblock as a shield, they'd piled into what vans they could and took off. Coco and the others had gotten in what shots they could, but they couldn't chase after them, not with the roadblock trapping them in place.

Now Yang sat on the back of the ambulance, head in her hands while Ren drove the four of them to the rendezvous point, every muscle in her arm aching from that stunt she'd pulled. Her prosthetic kept twitching, jerking around when she tried to use her fingers. She'd need to have Weiss or Ruby take a look at the servomotors again. Some of the circuitry was fried, but it could be fixed.

But none of it mattered. Not with Adam on the loose and his pet assassin with him. She thought she'd winged him at least – she was sure one of her shotgun rounds took him in the shoulder. But she'd seen him and his hitman jump into the first car to leave – running like the pathetic cowards they were the second they saw Weiss wasn't there.

She needed him gone. She needed him dead, and he'd run.

"We'll get him." Coco squeezed Yang's shoulder and smiled bracingly. The older huntress sat across from her, stripping her chaingun and making sure it hadn't sustained any major damage during the fight. "He can't run and hide forever."

Yang growled beneath her breath and let the anger go. _She's right – there isn't anything I can do._ He couldn't hide forever, not now, not with them knowing he was really out there. Atlas, Vale, hell, even Mistral and Vacuo would be more than happy to help hunt him down. They'd get him, eventually – no matter how much she hated the wait. Her semblance began to fade, leaving a bone-deep exhaustion in its wake.

"I'm sure the others are fine," Coco said, trying to meet Yang's eyes. "With everyone they sent to catch us, the rest of your team must have made it to the SDC without getting caught."

Yang looked back across the smoking highway, over the smoking wreckage of the White Fang's cars. Over the broken blades and shell casings. Over the brand-new potholes scattered across the asphalt where Nora's grenades had landed. This had been a long, hard fight and deep down, Yang had a sneaking feeling that it was only just beginning.

"I really hope you're right."

* * *

"How exactly did you convince them to let us borrow this?" Blake asked, shouting so Weiss could hear her over the roar of the airship's propellers.

The injured girl looked up from her bed. The gurney was locked in place, latched to the floor with Weiss tied down atop it. It wasn't comfortable, but it meant that if Ruby made any quick maneuvers, Weiss wouldn't go flying around the hold.

Weiss smiled ruefully and closed her eyes, wincing as the turbulence jostled her shoulder. "The hospital wants to break ground on a new cardiology wing."

Blake snorted a laugh. "Well, you're lucky Ruby knows how to fly one of these."

Weiss nodded, then winced as another jerk sent pain shooting up her arm. Blake looked down at her in concern. The heiress' dosage of painkillers was lower than Blake would like, lower than even Dr. Yabai had suggested. But Weiss insisted – she needed a clear head when they arrived.

"Blake," Ruby called back from the cockpit. "How's Weiss doing back there?"

Blake hauled herself up to the front, using the handrails to keep from stumbling. "She's hanging on. We strapped her down about as firmly as we can without hurting her shoulder." It wasn't what Ruby meant, but she needed her head clear. She'd be worried enough about Weiss without Blake telling her how much pain the heiress was in. "Just try not to crash, okay?"

"Don't worry." Ruby took her eyes away from the console for a split second to look back at the white-haired girl lying on the bed. "I got this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I managed to keep to my release schedule and get this out a bit earlier than the last wait.
> 
> Please leave a review or comment if you can. (A) It makes my day and (B) it sometimes gives me idea about what you guys would like to see and any mistakes I might need to fix. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, or even just want to say 'hi,' PLEASE put it in a review or in an ask on tumblr (you can find me as 'redsuitwriter'). If I wasn't clear about something, then I'd love to know so I can fix it in the text.


	26. Last Call - Act I Epilogue

"What the hell was that?" Adam shouted the instant they were out of range.

Robin held onto the railing that ran around the roof of the bouncing, speeding van, trying to steady himself and ignoring the cut in his side where one last chunk of shrapnel sliced through his aura. He spared Adam a glance, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. The bull Faunus was furious. His face and neck were a brilliant crimson beneath his mask, one vein pulsing angrily in his neck. The terrorist was fuming, leaning in as Robin turned way, screaming into his ear.

"What's the point of putting a listening program on Belladonna's scroll, if you're not gonna use the damn thing?"

"This may come as a surprise," Robin snapped, yanking on the straps holding his White Fang mask in place. He could barely see with it on, and no one had told him how uncomfortable the damn thing would be. "But in case you didn't know how electronics work, she has to _turn it on_ first."

Adam was mid-shout when the van hit a bump and bounced its passengers up into the air. Gripping tight to the handrail, he steadied himself, then turned the brunt of his fury back on the man peeling his way out of a borrowed White Fang uniform.

"What the hell is-"

Before he could finish, the van filled with an incessant beeping – the short fast sound of an incoming call on someone's scroll.

 _Probably Mal,_ Robin guessed, smirking as the rest of the thugs checked their pockets.

"Pretty sure it's for you."

Glowering, Adam reached beneath his seat and pulled out the scroll he had stashed before the ambush. Thumbing the power button, he looked down, his face growing even darker as a scowling Mal appeared on the small screen.

"Report," she snapped, her tone leaving very little doubt about her mood.

Adam shot Robin a look – probably meant as a warning to keep his damn mouth shut – then turned back to the scroll. "She got away."

If anything, Mal's scowl grew deeper. "Explain."

"They brought backup," Robin chimed in helpfully, making sure to smile when the redheaded glared in his direction. "The extra huntress started shooting and your Fang puppies turned tail and ran."

"We were ready to handle the other two, not the Adel girl," Adam snapped, a vein in the side of his neck starting to throb. "If you had done your job, given us _reliable_ information, we could have taken precautions. We would have been prepared-"

"Enough," Mal snapped. "It's a setback, but not a drastic one. The important thing is it kept them focused on us. Robert, head back here and finish the report for Miss Schnee on our 'mysterious' assassin. Something insignificant – the source materials for the masks perhaps. Something interesting but ultimately useless for tracking us."

"I'll go with him," Adam growled, still glowering at Robin over the top of his scroll.

"No. Go to your bolthole. Ready your men."

"The plan was-"

"Plans change," Mal said with a firmness that left no room for argument. "There's a bullhead waiting for you one klick east of your position. Get Robert there, then go to ground. Belladonna and her partner saw you – they can confirm you've returned. That's all we need for now."

The Faunus opened his mouth to argue, but the words had barely left his mouth before the connection cut out. Cursing, he slammed his fist into the side of the van, denting the side and missing a bullet hole by an inch. Hauling himself forward, he made his way to the front of the van, and started briefing the driver at the top of his lungs.

Shaking his head, Robin waited for the swordsman to reach a high point in his tirade, then reached into his pocket and slowly drew out his scroll. Ignoring the request for a password, he placed his thumb on the bottom left corner, holding it place until it started the biometric scan. The screen blinked, then cleared, replaced by the real login page. Fingers tapping on the screen, he entered his code and sighed, waiting for it to load. The double layer of security – the scanner and the fake sign-in page that wiped the entire scroll if used – always slowed down the processing speed. Still, better safe than sorry.

Finally, after watching that damn circle spin time and time again, it booted up.

Pulling a pair of earbuds from his back pocket, he plugged them in and got to work. The file he was looking for was large – the inevitable side effect of leaving the bug running overnight. Fortunately, he remembered what he was looking for. Clicking the play button, he jumped to the section he'd highlighted, listening as the voices of the four girls came in over his headphones.

" _More bad news?"_ Belladonna asked. The voice was distorted, altered by the poor quality of the recording and compressed enough to be sent without much impact on her scroll's processor. Still, it was her – even the interference couldn't hide that.

" _Good news, actually."_ The second voice was higher pitched – the compression had distorted it even more – but it had to be the Schnee girl. _"I think we just got our ace in the hole."_

Robin hit the pause button. He'd heard the recording before, no reason to listen through the rest of it again. The conversation got less interesting after that. Weiss hadn't been talkative about her 'ace' and they eventually turned to her treatment schedules.

 _The 'ace' must have been the Adel girl then,_ he thought, rewinding back to the last of the good stuff. He had to admit, he hadn't expected them to bring in an extra huntress for backup. The other two had been obvious, but Weiss must have called Adel when Blake wasn't in the room.

 _Smart of her – not that I would have told our angsty bull-man anyway._ Robin grinned, and wished once more that he'd had a camera when the back doors of the ambulance sprang open to reveal the gold-washed chaingun. _If he could see the look on his face ..._

Shaking his head, Robin glanced up at the driver, still trying to listen to Adam while keeping his eyes trained on the road in front of them. Turning his attention back to the scroll, Robin pulled up the menu, smiled, and hit delete.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to rise when the borrowed airship touched down at Schnee Corporate Headquarters. Red-orange light glinted off the propellers, reflecting onto the glass-and-metal skyscraper that loomed over the rest of downtown Atlas. The building cut the sky like a knife, one tall, perfectly symmetrical tower that narrowed to a point designed to pierce the heavens.

The ground crew guided them to a helipad on the sun-ward side of the building, putting the morning light at Ruby's back as she made her way to the landing zone marked with dashed black-and-yellow lines. As carefully as she could, Ruby pulled back on the control stick, slowly bringing the airship to a stop as they came in for a surprisingly gentle landing.

There was the slightest bump as they touched down, and then they were done. Finally able to breathe, Ruby cut the power, letting the airship blades cycle as she clambered out of the cockpit. Hopefully the little jolt hadn't been enough to hurt Weiss – the girl had already suffered through enough after a bumpy ride from the hospital.

Blake was already with her by the time Ruby made it to the hold, carefully undoing the straps that has held Weiss in place during their flight. The heiress was pale, paler than she'd been before they'd left

"You okay?" Ruby asked, reaching instinctively for one of Weiss' hands. Their fingers had barely touched when she stopped, realizing just in time that she'd tried to grab Weiss' bad arm.

The white-haired girl looked up at her and tried to smile, unable to fully hide the pain from her face. Reaching across with her left, she took Ruby's hand in hers.

"I'll survive. Thank you for not pulling one of your normal landings."

Ruby gave her the best smile she could, but even that felt hollow. She still didn't feel like smiling. Even with Weiss awake, even with her starting to heal, the image of her partner – her _girlfriend –_ collapsed on the marble floor in a pool of her own blood was too new, too raw. Especially with Weiss lying in front of her, pale and sickly, wincing as Blake slowly undid the last few straps.

A small whimper escaped Weiss' throat, and Ruby reached for the button that controlled Weiss' IV drip. But before she could push the button, Weiss caught her hand.

"No." the heiress shook her head, holding Ruby's gaze until she let go of the controls. "It's not too bad."

"Weiss, you have a hole the size of my fist in your shoulder."

"You're exaggerating, and it'll still be there even if I take the meds." Weiss gave her a tired look, and turned her hand, twining her fingers with Ruby's. "I need a clear head for this. Once we're done, we can let the doctors dope me up till I can't feel a thing."

Ruby opened her mouth, then closed it, seeing the stubborn set to Weiss' jaw. _This isn't an argument I'm gonna win._

The younger huntress pursed her lips into a worried line and nodded. _There's only so far I can push her,_ she thought, still not letting go of Weiss' hand. _If she thinks she can handle this..._

"Promise me," she choked out, her throat closing tight. "The second it gets too much-"

"I'll tell you. I promise."

 _That's probably the best I'm ever gonna get._ Nodding, Ruby let out the breath she'd been holding and reached for the door controls.

* * *

The airship door popped and cracked, hissing as the hydraulics raised the heavy panel. Light flooded in, blinding Weiss for a second before her eyes could adjust. At first, all she could make out was four shadowy figures standing on the helipad outside, scuffed and scraped in a place or two, but not looking too much the worse for wear. Then a blur of pink and orange raced across the tarmac as soon as the bay door was half-open, arms reaching out to hug Blake around the middle.

"Team CYNR, reporting for duty!" Nora beamed, pulling away to give the Faunus a mock-salute, then darting over to help Ruby lower Weiss' wheelchair.

"Really? You went with 'Sinner?'" Weiss rolled her eyes, wincing as her friends gingerly lowered her to the ground. "Little on the nose, don't you think?"

Nora just kept beaming, and gave Weiss the gentlest, least jarring hug she could manage. The heiress sighed and wrapped her left arm around the woman's back. Normally, she'd try to push the overly expressive girl away ... but it _was_ good to see her.

"We figured it'd do for a temp name." Yang drawled, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Coco as the remaining three hunters gathered around the airship. She spared a glance for Blake, a quick flash of teeth in a reassuring smile, before moving over to their injured teammate. "How're you feeling?"

"Ready to freeze the first executive who looks at me cross-eyed."

Yang rolled her eyes. "I meant your wound."

"I know." Weiss turned to look up at Coco, squinting against the sunlight. "Thank you for going with them."

Coco shrugged and adjusted the shades on the tip of her nose. "It was the least I could do."

"Hardly." Weiss blocked the sun with the back of one hand, and saw the teasing smile on her friend's lips. "When are you heading back?"

"Not sure. Think I'll stick around for a bit." Coco glanced back at the building behind them, putting one hand on her hip as she gave the SDC offices a long, critical look. "I've been involved with Adel Conglomerate's finances for years now. And I'm guessing you could always use another gun if things go sideways."

 _That's just like her,_ Weiss thought. Coco had always been the attentive sort of leader – checking on her team, almost instinctively knowing when something was wrong, even keeping an eye out for her juniors from time to time. Weiss smiled gratefully and tried to nod, wincing as the motion pulled on her wounded arm.

"... honestly, I still can't believe the hospital cleared you," the senior huntress said, eying the bandages peeking out from beneath the jacket wrapped around Weiss' shoulders.

They were well-hidden for the most part - the heiress had insisted on being properly dressed for the board meeting, despite the fact that the others could barely raise her arm far enough to slide on her shirt without he nearly feinting from the pain. Finding a compromise, Ruby and Blake had hacked one of her dress shirts apart, removing the right sleeve and replacing the stiches on that side with hastily-added buttons. It worked – you couldn't see the rough needlework beneath the jacket – but it ruined it for almost anything else. Not that Weiss couldn't spare the clothes.

"They didn't." Blake growled, throwing a very dark look towards the white-haired huntress. "She _insisted_."

"A few hours in the office won't kill me, and I couldn't call a board meeting from my sickbed."

"You know, there's this thing called a video call," Yang drawled, a bit more bite to her tone than normal. "Sometimes, businesses even use them for things called conferences."

"Still sends the wrong message," Weiss shook her head. The others didn't understand – she knew they were worried, _why_ they were worried, but she needed to appear strong in front of the board, now more than ever. With the stunt she was about to pull – using her majority shares to name herself, an injured woman in her twenties, as the new company president – she needed every advantage she could get.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ruby asked quietly, eyes locked on Weiss' face as she slipped a bottle of water into Weiss' good hand

"I'll be fine," Weiss said, just as softly. "I promise."

Weiss held the younger woman's gaze, never looking away, doing everything she could to keep any sign of the throbbing pain from her face. The agony digging into her side like a knife and making her crave the drowsy bliss that the painkiller brought. Ruby was worried and any other time, Weiss would have told her how she felt. Let the girl settle her in bed, numb and sleepy and relaxed in the knowledge that Ruby was watching over her.

But that wasn't what she needed right now. She needed to look strong, for Ruby as much as the board.

No matter the pain.

Finally, Ruby nodded, reaching forward to smooth the lapels on her suit. Straightening, she ran her eyes over their team – now three more fighters strong.

"Alright team," she said, gripping the handles of Weiss' wheelchair and rolling the heiress towards the double doors. "Let's get her inside."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short length – I realized that the next chapter was getting too unfocused and too long, so I needed to chop things up. As it stands, this is basically the epilogue to Act I, and now that the next chapter is mostly written, I can post the beginning of Act II (there'll be a bit of a time-jump to mark it) very soon. Hopefully this weekend.


	27. Strawberry Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of Act II.  
> Blake and Yang spend some time recuperating in the months after the attack on Schnee manor. Yang is incorrigible, and Blake decides she wants to take the lead when Yang takes her to bed.

_The final twist on the Tequila Sunrise. Puree ice cubes and fresh strawberries, then pour in tequila and let the grenadine sink. Oh, and add one of those little umbrellas._

_Three months later._

"Hey Blake, quick question?"

Blake ducked and spun, the beowolf's claws slashing harmlessly over her head. Her arm followed the momentum of her body, sending her blade slashing though the hamstring and thigh of the yelping creature. Beheading it with her sheath, she turned to stare at the blonde currently busy with a Grimm of her own. "You sure this is the right time?"

"Why, you busy?" There was another explosion across the glade as a gold gauntlet plowed into the side of a second beowolf, sending the Grimm flying, flipping end-over-end until it slammed into a tree with a sickening crunch. The body fell forward, fur squished in around the wound Yang's fist left in its side. It hit the ground, then began to fade, dissolving until there was nothing left but a bloody stain.

Ignoring it, Yang tucked and rolled, ducking beneath the swiping claw of yet another Grimm. "If you could pick anywhere to live, where would it be?"

"How hypothetical is this?"

"Pretty hypothetical. Like, if you were Weiss," Yang said, sending another shotgun volley into a leaping wolf Grimm, and pitched her voice up in a passable imitation of the heiress. " _And money is no object._ "

Blake rolled her eyes and yanked her ribbon, snagging her target's paw before she sent it toppling forward. "Not Atlas. Something like your father's place on Patch would be nice, although I think we're both too fond of the city to live that far out of the way."

"So ... picturesque country cottage in the middle of town?" Yang grunted, kicking off the ground to drop kick a lupine Grimm with the poor judgement to try and swipe her legs.

"Don't get cute." The dark-haired huntress wrapped her ribbon around the snarling monster's neck and held, the ties trapping it in place, just long enough for her to snap its neck. "Yang!"

"Got 'im." Yang caught hold of the last Grimm's paw as he brought it down, using his momentum to send him hurtling over her shoulder. A long black ribbon snagged him mid-air, whipping him around to fly back towards the blonde – who met his jaw with her gauntlet-reinforced fist.

The beowolf crashed to the ground, dissolved, and everything went still. For an instant, the grove was completely silent,

"Last one?" Yang asked, her breath coming a little heavily as she pushed herself to her feet.

"Think so." Blake gave the woods around them one last, hard look. Beowolves rarely held back – pack mentality compelled them to strike as a group and few survived long enough to develop the cruel intelligence of older, more powerful species.

But nothing came hurtling out of the bushes, or crashing down from the treetops. Sheathing her blade, Blake returned the shroud to her back, and turned back to Yang. "Why d'you ask?"

"I was curious. And bored. We hadn't talked about it yet." With a flick of her wrists, the blonde disengaged her gauntlets, sighed, and leaned her head onto the shorter woman's shoulder. "Just surprised – there's still a few things I don't know about you."

"I'm a veritable woman of mystery." Letting out her breath, Blake just stood there for a moment, listening as the life returned to the forest around them, birds and insects frightened away by the Grimm slowly making their way back through the trees. Yang's head was warm against the bare skin of her shoulder, still bleeding off the heat from her semblance. It was nice – almost disturbingly nice. The warmth, the birds – none of it seemed to quite fit after slicing and punching their way through a small pack of beowolves.

"We should call Weiss," Blake finally said, pressing her lips to the top of Yang's head before she pulled away. "Tell her the plot's been cleared. She'll want the construction crew to get started as soon as they can."

"Meh. She'll call us tomorrow morning." Wrapping her arms around Blake's shoulders, Yang started the long trek back to camp. "Come on – we've got a warm fire and dehydrated chili mix waiting for us back at camp."

"Oh joy." Blake laughed, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "Freeze-dried chili. My favorite."

* * *

Blake woke the next morning to the smell of pine, mountain air, and the lack of a second warm body in her sleeping roll. Eyes still closed, she reached out with her arm, patting blindly at the spot where Yang should be.

She found nothing – just empty blankets and their sleeping bag. The Faunus sighed and settled back into the bedroll. It was one of the downsides to dating the blonde – Yang wasn't exactly a morning person, but even she tended to wake earlier than Blake.

 _Which isn't a_ bad _thing,_ the Faunus thought, still half-asleep, trying to block out the light slipping through the tent flaps. _It means coffee. And usually not having to make breakfast._

... _and waking up alone_.

Growling, she buried her face in the pillow, desperately trying to will herself back to sleep. But sleep didn't come – not with the light warming the canvas of their tent or the birds chirping overhead.

 _Fine,_ she grumbled to herself, grabbing the thickest flannel she could find and glaring up at the loud, irritating nestlings. _I get it, it's morning. Now shut it._

Her mood not at all improved by the joyous birdsongs, Blake wrapped the shirt over her sleep clothes and peeked blearily out of the tent. Even this early, the morning light flickered through the leafy canopy above her, speckling the ground with slowly shifting shadows and painting the nearby lake a brilliant crystal blue.

Yang sat in her usual place by the fire, propped up on a camp chair, distracted by the task of dropping pale beans onto the surface of a pan. Once enough of the grey-green lumps were scattered across the cast-iron, she set the pan into the flames, then started swirling slowly, the light flickering across her cheeks as the beans slowly turned dark. Then their sharp scent hit Blake's nose, overwhelming the wood smoke and the smell of grass and leaves.

Silently, Blake ducked back inside the tent, leaving Yang to her morning routine as she grabbed for her clothes. By the time she dressed, the beans were already brown, their fragrant oil hanging heavy in the air. Yang checked the beans while Blake took her seat behind the blonde, swirling them one last time around the rim of the skillet before gently sliding them into a deeply curved stone mortar.

Setting the pan aside to cool, Yang raised the pestle in hand and began to grind the beans, slamming, cracking, then sweeping the bits back to the bottom. She scraped and pounded, until all that was left was a fine soft thump every time she brought the pestle down. It was rhythmic, hypnotic, and Blake found herself staring, transfixed as Yang reached for the water pot.

The blonde carefully dumped the powder in, then poured the steaming water, letting the coffee steep before she skimmed the foam from the top and poured the dark liquid into a small, portable press. Taking a small box from her pack, Yang reached inside and sprinkled her special mix of spices into the brew, stirring with a long spoon before closing the press and pushing the remaining grinds to the bottom of the pot.

She closed her eyes and raised the press to her face, breathing in the sharp, welcoming aroma of the morning's caffeine.

"G'morning," Yang said, smiling as she poured the dark roast into the ceramic mug waiting for Blake. Handing it over, she paused long enough to swipe the hair from Blake's face and press her lips to the Faunus' cheek before pouring her own cup.

Blake brought the coffee to her lips and breathed in the steam. It smelled divine – and somehow almost exactly the same as the mix Yang brewed at home, arcane glass-and-metal apparatus and all.

They sat and drank in silence, Blake leaning against Yang's shoulder, watching birds spiral overhead. There were still a few bagels left, and it was barely a minute before Yang had them on sticks over the fire, toasting to a nice golden brown.

Settling back against her, Yang reached out to brush the hair back behind Blake's ear. Lips twitching in a smile, Blake tilted her head to the side, just enough to make the gesture easier for Yang – it was something Yang had grown fond of doing in the past few months, running her fingers through those pitch-black locks.

She waited, ready to lean her head into the caress ... but Yang's fingers didn't come.

Blinking, Blake looked up, and found Yang fidgeting in place, putting her cup down before shifting her weight onto her right arm, moving her left across her body to reach for Blake's cheek. _That can't be comfortable,_ Blake thought, watching as Yang contorted herself into position before finally sweeping the ebony strands behind the Faunus' ear.

She leaned into Yang's palm, giving her the contact the blonde had worked so unnecessarily hard for. This wasn't the first time she'd seen Yang do this – switch hands, change positions, or contort herself into mad shapes to keep from using her metallic arm.

A part of her understood. It took Yang months before she could use the prosthetic as well as her own flesh-and-blood arm. Even now, whenever it needed a replacement or an upgrade, there was a week or so where Yang avoided holding anything fragile. She'd learned her lesson after dropping a stack of plates a day into her first upgrade. Large motions – punches, hugs, waves – those came easily now. But the small movements, precise finger control, that still took a few days for her to adjust.

 _It makes sense_ , Blake thought. _But she hasn't needed an upgrade in months._ If Yang could handle making coffee like that, there wasn't any chance of her hurting Blake by accident.

_She doesn't need to be careful with me._

"You know," the Faunus said, reaching down and laying her hand atop Yang's prosthetic. The metal fingers twitched as she put pressure on them, but she held them still, running her fingertips over the casing. "This one _is_ fine. You're not gonna hurt me. You should know by now, I'm not that delicate."

"Oh, I know." Yang chuckled, but the rueful laughter didn't quite reach her eyes. She pulled away after a moment, slipping her hand out from beneath Blake's. Still silent, she sat back and stared down at her prosthetic, flexing the fingers as she turned it back and forth.

"Yang."

The blonde twitched, guilt flickering across her face.

"Talk to me," the Faunus said, giving the hand a worried look. "Is it acting up? If you're having problems with it-"

Yang shook her head. "It's not that. The arm's good. It just doesn't ..." The blonde trailed off, running her other hand across her face, trying to find the words. Blake listened and waited and kept her silence – better to let the blonde work through this than interrupt her now.

Yang's voice wavered when she finally spoke. "I can feel pressure on it. I know when I've hit something, how hard it is, if there's any give. It works perfectly fine for almost everything, but ... I can't _feel_ with it."

She ran the offending limb across the ground, letting the grass tickle at her palm. "It's not a big problem for a military prosthetic, but it can't tell me if something's hot. I can't feel the warmth from your skin, or what it's like to run my fingers through your hair. Cybernetics have gotten a lot better since Weiss got me my first one, but ... they can't hold up to the real thing."

Yang looked up into Blake's eyes and shrugged. "I'm not worried about hurting you, trust me. It's because I'm a sap, and I don't want to miss anything."

Shaking her head, Blake pushed the hair out of her lover's eyes, and slid seamlessly into her lap. Their foreheads touched, and Blake swallowed the apology she knew Yang didn't want to hear. No matter what Yang said, how many times she promised that she didn't blame Blake – it wouldn't change the fact that Blake blamed herself. For bringing Adam into her life, for needing Yang's help in the first place.

But that wasn't what Yang needed. So Blake pressed herself closer to the blonde, every motion a silent plea for forgiveness as she ran her hands over Yang's skin. Within seconds, she was lying atop the brawler's chest, their empty cups long forgotten.

Her lips were on Yang's, deep in a kiss that was only getting deeper, tongues swirling before Blake slid back and caught Yang's bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down, just hard enough to draw a moan from the busty woman beneath her, shivers running up the Faunus' spine as practiced hands found her waist. She gasped as the blonde tugged her closer, fingers following the lines of her shoulders before gripping the front of her shirt and baring her shoulders with one quick tug.

Just as her scroll started to ring.

Yang froze, halfway through stripping Blake out of her clothes. Excitement draining from her face, the blonde let out a long growl and thumped her head back against the ground in frustration.

"Is that-"

Blake nodded, sighing as she pulled the shirt back over her shoulders. "Probably."

The blonde let out another horrendous groan, then reluctantly let Blake reach for her scroll. "Dammit Weiss. Always had the _worst_ timing-"

"Don't be mad." Blake said, her voice low and husky as she pressed one last kiss to the side of Yang's neck before pushing herself up. "You'll make it up to me later."

Yang blinked, her mouth open in disbelief. "Make it up to _you_?"

"Hush." Setting the scroll against her knees, Blake fixed her clothes one last time, then pressed the answer button.

"Hello Weiss."

The white-haired heiress looked up at her from the screen. She was already dressed for work, arrow-straight lines of her shirt collar sharp against her neck. She was looking better – no dark circles under the eyes, a bit of color finally coming back into her complexion after months spent recuperating.

Weiss opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, a tangle of red-and-black hair popped into frame.

"Is that Blake?"

"Yes, Ru-"

"Hi Blake! Hi Yang!" Ruby chirped, giving the Faunus a very close view of her chin before she pulled back. The younger woman was already dressed ... mostly. She had the same sort of suit Weiss wore, in black with a red shirt instead of the heiress' blue-and-white. A dark tie hung precariously from her collar, looking like it was about to fall while Ruby tried to pin her hair one-handed.

Pressed into Weiss' side, she grinned and waved, just managing to fit most of her head into the shot. "We miss you guys!"

"We've been gone four days," Yang drawled, still looking a little put out as she reached for the coffee press.

"I knooow!"

"Ruby," Weiss said in a tone that belied years of patience. "Please go finish breakfast. We need to get going as soon as I'm done here."

With a grumble, Ruby begrudgingly retreated out of the frame, waving one more time to Blake.

"So," Weiss said, tearing her eyes away from the younger girl. "How did the mission go?"

"Good – we cleared the Grimm from the site. You should have more than enough time to move your workers back in and get the defenses set up. We'll stay a few days, use protecting the mine as an excuse to investigate the foreman."

"Thanks. The last thing we need is _another_ site trying to cover up safety violations." Weiss sighed and rubbed her fingers over her forehead. Blake watched and frowned. Weiss had always been more prone to migraines – stress headaches in particular – but ever since she took up her father's position at the SDC, they'd become a lot more frequent. The company presidency would have been stressful enough, but the mess her father left behind wasn't helping.

"How are things at home?"

If anything, Weiss' expression got darker. "No change. Adam's new Fang are making life hell for any company that deals or manufactures dust. They've been raiding convoys every couple days for the last month."

"He's getting more confident."

"Well, he should be," Weiss growled. "No one's been able to track them, or even figure out what he'll hit next. There's only so many people with the training to go that far past the borders."

Blake nodded. It was why so many companies used automatons to guard their shipments. Huntsmen and Huntresses were too few and far between to protect every train, and most of the fighters who _could_ defend a dust convoy were busy protecting larger cities, patrolling kingdom borders, or guarding the mines that gathered that dust in the first place. Most couldn't be spared to play nursemaid to a set of train cars just in case they were attacked. Even if they could, having _anyone_ alive on those trains drew the Grimm to them, making it even less likely that the dust would arrive on-schedule. Trains with living passengers had to be even _more_ heavily guarded – which meant higher costs for any company trying to deliver their product. Automated train guards couldn't keep up against Adam and his thugs, but at least they didn't attract the Grimm.

"Still no attacks on Schnee shipments?"

Weiss shook her head. "Nothing. Not even a glimpse of a Fang mask. A few news outlets are saying he's avoiding the Schnee family after ... failing last time."

"You don't believe that." Blake kept her eyes trained on Weiss' face, waiting to see how she'd respond. She and the others had kept a close eye on their teammate during her recovery, looking for any signs of lingering trauma. They all knew the damage an injury like that could do, mental as much as physical.

If Weiss felt anything from the reminder, she didn't show it. She just shook her head and busied herself with adjusting a stack of papers on her desk. "No. After you and I overhauled security, we haven't even had anyone scope out our facilities. To be honest," Weiss paused, before meeting Blake's eyes. "I think he's avoiding _you._ "

"... or saving me for last."

Weiss didn't answer that. Their eyes met for a moment, just a moment, and then both looked away. _Speaking of trauma_ , Blake thought, letting out her breath in a bone-deep sigh. _What are the odds all three of them have been keeping an eye on me?_

Weiss cleared her throat. "You think he's trying to rebuild them into what they were before the Fall of Beacon?"

"No. That group's ... not viable anymore." Blake shook her head and settled down in front of her scroll. "A few years ago, it was different. Almost every Faunus knew someone who was a White Fang member. Especially the younger generations."

Weiss snorted. "There's always an abundance of angry young people."

"Says the youngest company president in SDC history," Blake said, hoping the sarcasm would be audible over the call. "But you're right, a lot of the people who went to White Fang meetings were in their late teens or early twenties. Even if they didn't go on any actual raids, there was still some quiet support for what the White Fang were doing."

Weiss' jaw tensed, just for a second. "I ... suppose I can understand that. At least how people might find Adam's message appealing. Until they saw how far he was willing to go."

Blake nodded. Dropping a trainload of Grimm into a crowded city block made a hell of a statement, but that stunt had put nearly as many Faunus lives in danger as human ones. Targeting anti-Faunus businesses was one thing, but dumping monsters into a crowded city center, releasing them to indiscriminately attack anyone they came across – Faunus or human – had _not_ been a wise move. After the Fall of Beacon, most of the Faunus in Vale lost faith that the Fang cared about anything except its own power. _Then again,_ Blake thought, a sick feeling rising in her stomach. _They didn't_ care _what anyone thought of them. Cinder had her claws in deep by then._

"The White Fang were something good once. Adam ruined that. Even if he wants to bring back the Fang, there aren't enough Faunus who'd ever trust him again."

"Maybe," Weiss said. "He still has enough followers to cause some real damage."

Blake nodded, a lump forming in the back of her throat. "We need to end this, Weiss."

"I know. The moment you get back ... we'll start working on a plan. And it won't just be us and a few school friends this time." There was no joy in the smile Weiss flashed her. "Winter's been itching to hunt him down since the attack. Between her and the company, we've got more than enough pull with the military. Trust me, Adam won't know what hit him."

Blake swallowed, and tried to put aside the memory that had haunted her for months. The redhead standing over her, driving his blade into her side. The shock and horror as he severed Yang's arm. The copper smell of blood sticking to her as she ran, dragging her partner along, desperate to put as much distance as she could between them ...

_I really, really hope you're right._

* * *

It wasn't until Ruby popped back into screen to wave goodbye that Blake realized Yang was gone. Giving their youngest teammate one last wave, she forced a smile and turned off her scroll.

She hadn't noticed the blonde leave. That was odd by itself – Blake had excellent hearing, Yang wasn't what most people described as 'quiet.' _Maybe she wanted to give me and Weiss time to ourselves._

 _Or maybe she just wasn't in the mood to hear about the Fang one more time. She's got as much reason as any of us to want to avoid_ that _topic._

Pushing herself to her feet, Blake rose and glanced around the camp. Breakfast was gone – except for a foil-wrapped bagel set aside for her on a paper plate. Rolling her eyes and smiling, Blake unwrapped the food Yang had left for her. She'd toasted it just enough, as always, even if it wasn't warm anymore.

Eating while she walked, Blake checked the tent and found it empty, the bedroll folded up and zipped shut to keep insects from crawling inside throughout the day. Shrugging, she settled down to wait, cleaning up the few things Yang hadn't, slowly growing more anxious. Yang wouldn't have wandered too far on her own. Ten-to-one, she'd left to use the privy, or just to get a little fresh air. _There's no reason to worry,_ Blake told herself, and started picking up the last of their gear, storing it back where it belonged, and plugging her scroll into one of the charging stations they'd brought.

Only when she was done, and there was still no sign of the blonde, did she finally give in. _You're being ridiculous,_ she chided herself.

Sighing, Blake brought her hands up to her mouth. "Yang? Where are you?"

"Over here!"

 _See? She's perfectly fine._ Shaking her head, Blake grabbed her weapon and followed the sound of Yang's voice.

Stepping through a clump of trees, Blake found Yang standing in the lake they'd camped beside. She was still in the shallows, the water just barely above her ankles. She was standing with her back to Blake, and glanced over her shoulder as the Faunus stepped out into the sunlight.

"Yang, what are you doing?"

The blonde looked down at the arms crossed over her chest, hands gripping the hem of her shirt, mid-way through stripping it off over her head. She shrugged. "I don't know about you, but I could use a swim."

"Now?" Blake asked, blinking with disbelief. "In the middle of the woods? During a mission?"

"Why not? We're almost done here anyway, and the company guys aren't gonna be here till at least tomorrow." With not one scrap of shame on her face, Yang peeled her way out of her shirt. "Look, it's not stagnant. The water comes in from the waterfall and out that stream. It's totally fine."

"It's unprofessional."

Yang rolled her eyes and dropped her shorts alongside her top. "Come on, babe," she purred, stripping off her boyshorts and the sports bra she wore on missions. Standing completely naked in the shallow water, she glanced over at the Faunus, and gave her a look that could melt ice.

"Don't make me swim alone." With a teasing twitch of her brows and a smile that said she knew exactly where Blake was looking, Yang turned, giving the Faunus a wonderful view of her legs and back as she dived off the shallow shelf into the depths of the lake. Seconds later, she emerged, every bit the part of a cheesy B-movie mermaid, arching her back as she gasped for air. With one great twist of her head, Yang flicked her hair behind her, the spray sparking as the light touched it, trickling through the forest canopy and dyeing the spring with an unearthly glow.

Sighing, Blake sat down at the edge, running her fingers through the water. Yang was right – the spring looked pristine. "You're not going to let this go until I get in, are you?"

"Nope. We've been out here way too long – I'm tired of baby wipes and washing out of a pot. I need water on my skin." Yang bobbed against the surface, stretching her arms up over her head. "So, you comin' in?"

"That depends." Blake said, flicking the water from her fingers.

"On what?"

"... are you going to lob a scimitar at me?"

"Only if you start calling yourself 'Emperor,'" Yang laughed, swimming closer and refusing to look away as Blake started unzipping her pants. "And I'm not wearing any 'shimmering samite.'"

Blake rolled her eyes and pulled off the rest of her clothes before slipping carefully into the lake. "I think I prefer you without any."

Giving a whole new meaning to the term breaststroke, Yang swam over, bumping into Blake's side before laying her head on the Faunus' shoulder. "Think I can handle that."

Rolling her eyes, Blake wrapped her arms behind Yang's neck, standing on tiptoe to stay above the water as she brought the blonde's lips to hers. Only for her eyes to shoot open with a glare as two strong hands cupped her bottom, squeezing the fit curves as Yang hefted her up and against her.

"This is my bisexual." The blonde grinned. "There are many like her, but this one is mine."

"You're an ass."

"Speaking of ass-" Yang trailed off, playful lust glinting in her eyes. Then she kissed her again, drawing an annoyed growl from Blake, before she finally gave in and relaxed in Yang's arms. _I did say she'd make it up to me._

The brawler copped another feel, adjusting her grip, before she started walking back towards the shore. In seconds, they were out of the water, moving towards a towel lying on the grass, laying her down before climbing atop her, cascades of wet blonde hair falling down beside her.

"Why do I get the feeling your offer to swim was just to get me out of my clothes?"

"Only a little," Yang shrugged, drawing her hands up the Faunus' sides. "I do wanna swim. But we got interrupted earlier, and right now Weiss is on her way to the office and can't ruin the moment again."

"Not a bad plan," Blake purred, pressing her lips to the blonde's neck. "Although I think it needs one _small_ adjustment."

"And what's that?" Yang grinned, lacing her fingers between her girlfriend's.

Tucking one leg behind Yang's, Blake rolled, twisting as they moved to pin the other huntress to the ground beneath her. Yang gasped, eyes wide from the surprise, then pushed up against her, only for Blake to shove her back against the towel.

"I said you'd make it up to _me_." Blake whispered, keeping Yang's hands pinned as she leaned in to press her lips against Yang's neck. The blonde hummed, some of the tension sliding from her arms. She arched up into Blake, rolling her hips as the Faunus kissed along her neck, hand sliding between Yang's legs.

Yang gasped at the touch, arms moving to wrap themselves around Blake's back. In an instant, they were a jumble of limbs – Yang clinging to her as Blake worked her hand between them, the other clenching down on the blonde's shoulder, holding her in place. Droplets rolled down their bodies, sweat mixing with the water of the lake as clever fingers rubbed slow circles between Yang's legs, teasing and tempting but never quite slipping inside.

Then her folds parted for Blake's fingers, announced by one long moan that filled the clearing. The Faunus knew her well by now, every muscled inch of her, every spot that made her groan. And that was what she wanted – Yang's voice echoing in her ears, the rapid pounding of her heart, the legs trembling beneath her as one moved between Blake's knees, pressing up and grinding against her core.

Blake tensed as Yang brushed against her, the hand gripping Yang's shoulder slipping, nails digging into the tan flesh of her arm.

"Sorry," Blake said when the blonde hissed. Slowing, she brought her head down and kissed at the top of one red line. "I need to trim these."

"I don't mind the scratches," Yang grinned, pulling her down into a bruising kiss, driving the breath from her lungs. "Actually, I kinda like it when you mark me. And from the looks you give me sometimes, I _know_ you do too."

Blake smiled and looked guilty. She'd tried to hide it, but there was something about seeing the aftermath on Yang ... she wanted her marked. Taken. _Hers_. It was the only time she got possessive, and something she always felt guilty about afterwards.

"You're sure?" Blake asked, her brow furrowed.

"Always." Fingers twined themselves into black tresses as Yang smiled up at her. "My aura will heal anything you can do to me."

Blake held still, searching Yang's face for any sign of doubt, any twinge of hesitation. Then the Faunus was a blur, pinning the blonde to the ground with her lips, fingers intent on taking everything her lover was willing to give. She added another finger and grinned as Yang groaned against her cheek. Then Yang gasped her name, caught between thrusts, and Blake's teeth sank into her neck.

What breath Yang had left her in a whimper. Blake could feel every breath, every frantic beat of her heart, the blood pounding in her veins. She clutched Yang closer to her, needing her, needing _this_ , doing her best to drive the breath from Yang's lungs.

The blonde had never been the type to simply lie there in bed. Every roll of her hips, every thrust into her was met with Yang's thigh grinding against her core, hands caressing every inch of Blake she could reach, climbing up her back to slide through her hair, before finally coming up to rub at her ears.

"Yang. Stop."

The blonde pulled back immediately, her eyes wide with worry. "I ... I didn't rub them ... too hard or anything, did I? I'm trying to be gent-"

"You're fine." Blake kissed her silent, catching her hands before Yang could get herself in trouble again. "I'm just tired of you distracting me."

Yang gives her a smug look. "I'm that good, huh?"

"Yang, I really like you. But you have a very annoying habit of always taking the lead. Now lie back, and let me do this."

"Sorry." At least this time Yang had the grace to look guilty. "That purring sound you do makes ithard to resist."

"Learn," Blake growled, kissing at the bite mark decorating Yang's neck. "Touch them again, and I'm tying your hands until we're done."

Yang blinked, opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. An odd expression crossed blonde's face, somewhere between amusement and curiosity – nothing at all what Blake had hoped for.

"Yang," she said, trying to make the warning clear before the other woman got any ideas.

The blonde's grin only grew wider as she raised her hand.

" _Yang_. I mean it."

Slowly, and with obvious intent, Yang delicately brushed her hand along the ridge of one ear. She kept her eyes locked on Blake's the entire time, violet pools sparkling with a silent dare for the Faunus to do her worst.

Lightning fast, Blake grabbed Yang's wrists, hauling them over her head. The blonde tried to fight – or pretended to – writhing against the ground, smiling the entire time, and nearly breaking free before Blake managed to grab her Shroud. Pinning Yang with her knees, Blake whipped the ribbon around her wrists, wrapping and twisting until Yang had no hope of getting free.

Finally, they crashed back to the ground, Yang with her hands trapped and tied above her head, both panting and humming with sheer _need_.

"Too tight?" Blake asked, when she caught her breath.

"Nope." Yang grinned that same playful, challenging grin. "You know, I had a feeling you would be into this."

Blake glared and settled herself back, sliding along Yang's hips. "If you want, I'm sure I can find something to gag you with."

"Maybe next time." Angling her chin, Yang stared down at her, arms bound helplessly, her chest thrust forward and begging for Blake's attention. "So what's the plan, Blakey? Now that I'm completely at your mercy?"

"I'm going to leave you a shivering, sated, barely conscious mess." Growling under her breath, Blake shoved Yang's legs aside, settling down between them as she leaned in, her breath ghosting across Yang's skin. "Unless you have any objections?"

"Mmm. You talk a big game, Kitten."

Blake froze, her tongue an inch away from Yang's folds. Blinking, she looked back up at the blonde and watched as Yang's face fell, the sultry tone vanishing from her voice.

"Shit. Sorry, was that too heavy on the cat stuff?"

Blake started to say yes, that it was one step too far ... and stopped. If anything, she'd expected to be put off by it, to dislike Yang calling her that. What surprised Blake was that she didn't _actually_ mind. _Not from Yang, at least._ She knew the blonde saw her as an equal, that it was meant purely as a gesture of affection, nothing else.

"... no," she said, shaking her head. "For this, when we're alone, it's fine. But you _never_ call me that in public, okay?"

Yang leaned forward, pressing her body up into Blake's as much as her bound arms would allow. "Promise."

Taking Yang into her arms, Blake flipped her onto her stomach before pressing her body against Yang's back. Still steadily fingering the blonde, she felt the lines of Yang's muscles pressed against her breasts, the way those powerful shoulders flexed and squeezed as she kissed the back of her neck, loving every inch of her. Tasting, claiming, her free hand roaming across the blonde's abs until it found the weight of her breasts, her thumbs rubbing circles around the painfully hard peaks.

"They're not cat toys, babe." Yang moaned, her legs trembling with every thrust of Blake's fingers

Blake ignored her, her free hand pawing gently at Yang's full, heavy breasts. "You're the one who called me 'kitten.'"

Then her hands were on the blonde's hips, fingers sliding from her and leaving Yang groaning her displeasure. She tugged Yang's hips up, posing her with her ass high enough to reach before leaning down to dart her tongue between Yang's folds.

One hand pressed into the brawler's tensing abs, Blake patiently devoured her, slow and steady licks leaving Yang whining and pressing back against her. And every time, Blake backed off just enough, enough to keep the pressure building bit by bit, winding Yang up as tight as she could make her. It was methodical, determined, and torturously slow.

 _Which is just what we're looking for,_ she thought, and gave Yang one quick flick of the tongue along her clit.

"This is ... really nice, babe," Yang tensed and flexed, her breath coming in short shudders. "But c-could you _p-please_ pick up the pace?"

"Don't worry. I'll get you there." Blake pulled away just long enough to admire her handiwork. "But we're going at my speed today. And I want to take my time."

Yang laughed – a tortured, helpless sound that was more need than humor. "I really hate you right now."

It wasn't until Yang started tugging at her restraints that Blake finally gave in, wrapping her lips around the blonde's clit, her tongue toying with the bundle of nerves. Then the air was filled with Yang calling her name, ending with a choked-off cry as Blake slowly and gently pushed her over the edge, watching as the blonde dug her fingers into the ground, ripping the grass away as she shook. Through it all, Blake kept at it, lashing Yang's clit with her tongue, waiting until just when she was starting to come down before filling her with her fingers and thrusting, pounding into her until Yang let out one long cry, screaming Blake's name as her arms gave out and she collapsed completely onto the ground.

Gingerly, Blake lay herself atop her girlfriend. Yang panted beneath her, shaking with the aftershocks while Blake pressed her lips to the bite mark decorating Yang's neck.

"Mmm. Not a bad start," she managed, turning her head enough to meet Blake's lips with her own. "You tired already, kitten?"

"Trust me," Blake purred, nipping at the blonde's ear. "We've only just started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we are. Sorry for the delay but at least it's done. Life is getting less busy on my end so hopefully I'll be able to increase my output. For a peek behind the curtain - I'm moving _Audiophile_ into the Premium Well AU and doing a follow-up piece for that (I had a fun idea for another one-shot for it). So if you haven't read that yet, I suggest checking it out.
> 
> As usual, _please_ leave a review or comment if you can. (A) It makes my day and (B) it sometimes gives me idea about what you guys would like to see and any mistakes I might need to fix. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, or even just want to say 'hi,' PLEASE put it in a review or in an ask on tumblr (you can find me as 'Redsuitwriter'). Seriously - I'll just grin when I check my notifications and find a review or a follow for a story. 
> 
> **Dramatis Personae**
> 
> **Huntresses/Huntsmen**
> 
> Ruby Rose (human from Patch)  
> Weiss Schnee (human from Atlas)  
> Blake Belladonna (Cat Faunus from Vale)  
> Yang Xiao Long (human from Patch)  
> Pyrrha Nikos (human from Mistral)  
> Jaune Arc (human from Vale)  
> Lie Ren (human from Vale)  
> Nora Valkyrie (human from Vale)  
> Winter Schnee (human from Atlas)  
> Coco Adel (human)
> 
> **Antagonists**
> 
> Mal (human)  
> Robin Pūcel (human, Aliases: Robert Goodman, Vardon Wight, Marquis Lutin Verdir)  
> Lloyd Mac Tire (Dog Faunus from Vale)  
> Adam Taurus (Bull Faunus)  
> Morden Schnee (human from Atlas)


	28. Are You Tough Enough?

_Equal parts ice-cold cinnamon and peppermint schnapps, 190-proof grain alcohol, bourbon, and tequila. Mix in a cocktail glass, knock it back like a shot, and suffer._

The room smelled of sweat and rubber, with the smallest trace of citrus – her attempt to counter the scent of four women exercising in the confined space. Here, Weiss couldn't help but remember Beacon, the many hours she spent in the school's well-used combat gyms, their rooms filled with every kind of workout device and reinforced heavily to keep people like Yang and Nora from damaging the facility too badly. Weiss remembered hours upon hours of drills and sparring matches, practicing team maneuvers and learning to work with the three girls who would become her closest friends. But the small workout room she sat in now was a far cry from the gyms' vaulted ceilings and combat rings. Thin exercise mats covered the floor, dented and depressed where the machines pressed into them. The padding and exercise gear lay scattered across the room, arranged by Yang and Blake in a kind of controlled chaos. _And I have a feeling most of the control came from Blake._

It was one of the first things the two did after they moved into Weiss' new penthouse in downtown Atlas. The ink had barely dried on the lease before the two huntresses were preparing the spare room for Weiss' physical therapy. To Weiss' annoyance, they went overboard almost immediately. She _still_ hadn't used some of the machines they set up, and from the lack of wear and tear on the handles, she doubted the two of them had either. At least it had kept them busy, let them feel like they were helping.

Weiss had to admit, gritting her teeth as she struggled to lift the weight with her recovering arm, she liked the privacy. It was easier to do this at home, away from the eyes of anyone who'd find it amusing to see the new president of Schnee Dust in a tank top and yoga pants. She would have hated showing this kind of weakness in public. Her arm ached. Her shoulder throbbed with every twitch of her fingers. Every breath filled her nostrils with the sickly-sweet smell of her sweat mixing with her deodorant. She hadn't hated that smell once. She did now.

"Come on Weiss, just two more," Ruby said, eyes on the weight Weiss hauled up towards her shoulder. She sat across from the struggling heiress, wearing sweats and a hoodie she'd used since their Beacon days. Her tone was jovial and encouraging, her smile supportive. She was the perfect partner, the perfect spotter, always watching to see if Weiss was having trouble with the exercises, always positive about the progress they'd made – even on days when Weiss knew she'd made none at all.

She wasn't sure if it was the positivity or the pain that made her want to scream.

"I am ... perfectly capable ... of counting, Ruby!" she snapped, finally managing to get the far too-small dumbbell up to her shoulder. Her whole right side hurt. Her wound had healed, leaving only a large, puckered scar, but the muscles that had gone unused for months still weren't used to this kind of exercise. And the ones her aura had knitted back together ... she didn't want to think about those. A deep, biting agony shot through her as she lowered the weight back down, finishing the rep just as Ruby started her cheerleading routine.

"There you go," the dark-haired girl smiled and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Just one more."

Closing her eyes, Weiss breathed. _She's just trying to help,_ she thought, trying to restore a little of her frayed nerves. _She's being supportive._ _She's not_ trying _to annoy me._ Growling beneath her breath, Weiss tightened her fingers around the hand weight and tugged, her shoulder screaming.

"There you go. Almost there."

For the sixth time that morning, Weiss wondered if it might be better to try doing these workout sessions alone. Yang's sessions with her were harder, focused on keeping the rest of her body in fighting shape before switching over to her recovering arm. They were grueling, and she could barely walk after some of Yang's conditioning, but at least the blonde never felt the need to cheer her on. Blake was nearly silent when she handled her PT, pointing out a mistake here or there, but otherwise just staying out of her way. Her presence was reassuring, and the silence was a welcome change, especially now that the four were living together again. Silence was a rare commodity in any house with both sisters in it.

 _I should just tell her I want to start doing this on my own,_ Weiss thought, trying to keep her mind off her arm. _Self-reliance maybe. Something like that. Maybe-_

"Perfect," Ruby said, breaking Weiss' concentration. Looking down, Weiss saw the weight pressed against her shoulder, the covered metal wavering as her arm trembled. "Here, let me-"

Weiss jerked away as Ruby reached for the weight. "I can do this _,_ Ruby." Carefully, she lowered it back to her side.

Her arm gave out halfway down. Weiss' hand dropped, slamming hard into the bench as the weight tumbled from her fingers. Swearing, she reached out with her good hand to catch it, and felt the tips of her nails scratch the neoprene padding before it landed with a thump on the floor.

Everything was still for a long moment, the dumbbell lying still on the ground, oblivious to the white-haired woman glaring at it in pure, uncontrolled fury. Another mistake. Another failure. Another time her body refused to do the one _stupid_ thing she needed it to do. And of _course_ it happened right in front of Ruby, who would be completely, infuriatingly understanding, insist that _everything_ was okay, and-

"It's fine," Ruby said softly, setting off a cascade of curses inside Weiss' mind. "Let me get that." She reached down and effortlessly plucked the weight off the ground.

Weiss felt her face grow hot. She did it so easily. In the time it would have taken her just to raise the blasted thing, Ruby whisked it away, laying it neatly in the rack against the wall. Weiss had to fight for every inch, but Ruby looked like she could juggle five more like it without breaking a sweat.

"Alright. How about you take a break, get some water, and we'll finish the last set." Ruby shot her a smile and reached for her water bottle.

"I'm done," Weiss snapped, swinging her leg over the bench and getting to her feet. _Anything_ would be better than raising that thing again. Better than another pointless attempt to salvage what was left of her career as a huntress. Better than listening to the pointless cheering and the assurances that it would all, eventually, be okay.

"You sure?" Ruby frowned and looked up. "Weiss, if you're gonna get better, we do kinda need to stick to this."

Propping herself against one of the more complicated machines, she crossed her arms, brows furrowed. Weiss could see the concern in her eyes – if anything, it made everything worse. Anger she could handle. Recrimination, blame ... anything other than this constant spring of cheer. "If you need to stop, it's okay. But if you can, it's just one-"

"Dammit, Ruby! I am so _tired_ of 'one more'."

"Weiss-"

Weiss turned on her heel, eyes blazing. " _What_? It's a ten-pound weight. _Ten_ pounds. A child could lift that thing, and I can barely get it up past my shoulder. I was barely able to lift it yesterday, or the day before that, and I have complete faith I'll barely be able to lift it tomorrow. I'm not getting any better, so what's the damn point?"

Ruby's face filled with worry as she leaned in. "I know it feels like it, but you're making progress-"

"What progress?" Frustration took over and Weiss felt tears trying to escape. She blinked them away, her voice raw. "I still have mornings when I can't raise my arm high enough to shove it in a damn shirt! I can _barely_ lift that stupid dumbbell. I know you're trying to help, but the last thing I need right now is a cheerleader!"

Yanking the door open, Weiss stormed out into the hall, leaving Ruby alone in the empty room.

* * *

Weiss' anger carried her down past the bedroom she shared with Ruby, to the guest room she'd turned into an office. Slamming the door behind her, she breathed, her tank top sticking to the sweat of her back.

It wasn't fair. None of this was. She had a huntress' aura. A trained aura. It should be helping her heal, making this easier. She shouldn't have to fight tooth and nail for every inch her body gave her. And she shouldn't be losing that inch every time she came back to train.

Cursing under her breath, she stumbled her way over to her desk. Grabbing the chair, she sank down into it, not caring what her sweat-stained clothes might do to the leather. Thumping her head onto the desk, she closed her eyes and groaned. Her shoulder was one big ball of pain, seeping slowly down into her bones. Her head pounded – she wasn't sure if that was a side effect of the workout or losing her temper.

It wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth the aggravation, the pain. None of this was.

Her scroll beeped. She ignored it. It beeped again. And again, and again, seeming almost annoyed at having been ignored the first time.

Grumbling, Weiss pawed blindly for the annoying little contraption. With her luck, it was probably the office, bothering her on her one day off. It wasn't the first time, and with the reforms she was pushing through, it probably wouldn't be the last.

Finally getting ahold of the scroll, she pulled it to her, expecting it to be the number of her secretary on the screen.

It wasn't. Yang's picture filled the center of the scroll, caught mid-wave as she beamed into the camera.

For a second, Weiss considered just letting Yang leave a message. If it had been the office, she would have done it without a second's thought – the entire point of working out at home was to _not_ have people she worked with see her like this. But Yang had already seen her in sweat-stained shirts, with headbands to keep her bangs out of her eyes.

The last thing she wanted right then was to talk. Still ... she'd never forgive herself if it was an emergency. If something was wrong and she didn't pick up the phone.

Groaning, Weiss sat up, swept a few hairs from her face, and clicked the button at the base of the scroll.

Yang's grinning face immediately popped into view.

"Hi!" the blonde grinned, waving into the camera. "Waited as long as I could. I interrupt your workout?"

"No." Weiss started to shake her head, then stopped when her shoulder complained. She decided to change the subject. "Why did you call?"

"Just checking in. Site's all set up and the miners have settled in." Yang grinned and waved at the complex behind her. "You should see it, Weiss. This place is a fortress. Even if a few Grimm wander back this way, the miners'll be safe for years."

"Happy to hear it," Weiss said, trying to throw some enthusiasm into her voice. She succeeded, a little. At least she didn't sound like she was just waiting for Yang to hang up.

"Anyway, we're just about to head out. Blake said to call in and –"

The blonde trailed off as she looked at the screen. In a second, the smile was gone, her lips turning in a frown as her eyes searched Weiss' face. "Alright. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Don't give me that," Yang huffed, her jaw set stubbornly. "Come on, Snowflake, we've known each other for years. I can usually tell when something's up."

Weiss didn't answer. After a moment, Yang rolled her eyes and sighed. "Kay, you're not talking, which means it's something personal. You'd vent if it was work." She narrowed her eyes, taking in Weiss' clothes. "It's the PT, isn't it?"

Weiss flinched, a scowl coming across her face. She hadn't thought _Yang_ , of all people, could read her that well.

"Come on, Weiss. Talk to me."

"It's not working," she growled. "I go in, I run the exercises, and the next day ..."

"You don't feel any better," Yang finished for her.

"I am sick and tired of torturing myself every day for _nothing_. Nothing's changed. My arm's barely any better than when they took the brace off. My aura helped it heal, but it's not doing anything to build the muscle back up." Weiss glared down at her arm. "I just want to be done with this."

"I get that."

"No, you don't." Weiss snapped, angry. The _last_ thing she wanted right now was sympathy. "You don't know how-"

"How it feels? What it's like to only have _one_ working arm?" Yang paused just long enough to let the words sink in. "To need help just getting dressed, even if it's just till you get used to it? How the bandages make taking a shower a pain in the ass? How fucking hard it is to do everything with one hand? You're right – I can't _possibly_ imagine what that would be like."

Weiss swallowed as the color drained from her face. Red was flickering at the corner of Yang's eyes, her jaw twitching with tension. _For the love of ... what is the matter with me?_

"... I didn't," she started, trying to come up with something she could say. Nothing came to mind. How could she have said that, to _Yang_ of all people?

"That was incredibly stupid of me." She forced herself to meet Yang's eyes, trying not to look at the prosthetic. "I'm sorry."

That was the worst part. At the end of the day, the doctors said she'd _eventually_ recover. Get back to where she'd been, or near it, at the very least. 'Eventually' might take several years of beating her head against the wall, and there might still be some restriction of movement, but she'd still have her arm. Yang wasn't so lucky.

"Now that you're done with the self-pity," Yang drawled, enough of an edge in her voice to make Weiss flinch. "I seem to remember someone pushing me when I had to deal with a new arm."

"That was _completely_ different." Weiss heard herself and cringed. It sounded far too much like a whine. "Your problem was a mechanical one, not biological. It was a whole different set of skills you had to learn to operate a prosthetic, you just had to-"

"Push through the hard parts? Accept that getting used to it wouldn't happen overnight? Not expect to be back to normal right away?"

"I was going to say _adapt_ ," Weiss grumbled. The last thing she needed was her own words thrown back in her face, even if Yang _did_ have a point. Several points. "And using that against me is completely unfair."

Yang snorted, a wry look on her face. "Weiss, when I say I know what you're going through, it's not some shitty platitude. I _actually_ know what you're going through." The camera shook and lowered - Yang had sat down. The blonde leaned back against a tree, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Look, you've been on the other side of this. It's not gonna make it easier, but at least you know what you're in for. And yes, that's gonna include a long stretch where you feel like shit and don't seem to be getting anywhere. I remember how much of an ass I was when you were just trying to help." Yang smiled guiltily and ran a hand through her hair. "But Ruby's ... she's not as ... as _hardened_ as you are. She's more vulnerable, so please don't pull the same shit I did, okay? For her sake?"

Weiss said nothing, staring down at the screen and feeling small. Yang was too perceptive for her own good. Running a hand over her face, she nodded, hoping it would be enough to get Yang talking again. She didn't trust herself to speak.

She didn't have to wait long. "Remember, you _will_ get better," Yang said, smiling reassuringly, trying to fill the silence. "You're just gonna want to stab several orderlies before you do." She chuckled dryly, but Weiss didn't feel like laughing.

"Can I call you back?" Weiss asked, her throat tight, her stomach one big mass of knots.

"Yeah." Yang nodded into the camera. "See you soon, okay?"

Weiss' voice was barely a whisper. "Okay." Hitting the 'end' button, Weiss pushed the scroll away and buried her face in her hands.

* * *

Yang clicked her scroll off and let out a long, slow breath. She shouldn't have gotten mad. Even if Weiss _had_ been asking for it with the pity party. Hell, Weiss was actually handling this better than she had, for the most part. And it wasn't like she hadn't lashed out at everyone nearby when she was recovering.

 _Maybe I didn't need to be_ that _harsh,_ she thought, not for the first time regretting the temper she'd been born with.

 _I'll apologize when we get back,_ she decided. _Find something to cheer her up. She looks like she could use it._

"What was that about?"

Yang looked up to find Blake standing over her. Her girlfriend had her pack in hand, another bag holding their tent and survival gear already slung across her shoulders. She was ready and rearing to go.

Yang pushed herself to her feet, groaning when her sore muscles complained. "Weiss is having a rough time with her P.T."

Blake's expression changed from curiosity to concern. "Anything I can do?"

Yang sighed. That was probably part of it. Everyone wanted to help. Everyone wanted to see Weiss get better and everyone was happy to offer to do anything they could. And knowing Weiss, knowing how the girl set insane standards for herself and mentally flogged herself when she didn't meet them, Weiss probably felt that she was letting them all down.

"Not really. She's at the same spot I was for a bit – frustrated and angry and not seeing the results she thought she would. The exercise plan we worked up should be fine, and I'll take over from Ruby when we get back." Yang shrugged. It wasn't the most helpful answer, but short of time travel or discovering the key to cellular regeneration, there wasn't really anything else they could do. "She'll be okay. She's probably feeling a little helpless right now. She shouldn't be, not with her iron grip over her dad's company, but you know how she is."

"Is that how you felt?" Blake asked quietly, her face unreadable. "When you were ... recovering?"

Yang looked at her partner in surprise. She hadn't expected ... well, she supposed she _should_ have. She knew Blake still blamed herself for what happened at Beacon. Even if Yang didn't. She _had_ blamed her for running, and _that_ definitely hadn't helped then, but telling Blake the truth wouldn't help now. That'd she'd felt helpless and abandoned, that her team had left her behind when she couldn't fight anymore. That her career as a huntress was over. _But you're already torturing yourself about that, aren't you?_

"Come on," she said, and tapped Blake's arm with her fist. "We've got a bullhead waiting to take us home. And the trip's gonna be impossi _bull_ if you mope the whole way to Atlas."

Blake froze, the looked at her in disbelief. Seeing Yang's smirk, she rolled her eyes and turned back towards their airship, shaking her head.

"Hey. Don't have a _cow_ , Blake. You're too no _bull_ to stay annoyed for long."

A long, suffering groan filled the clearing as Blake climbed aboard. Grabbing her gear, Yang followed after her, grinning ear to ear.

"I ever tell you that you're adora _bull_ when you're mad?"

The Faunus actually shuddered at that one. "Even for you, that was awful. Now get on."

"Don't you mean it was ... terri _bull_?"

"... fine. Get your own ride back."

Beaming, Yang darted for the airship before Blake could close the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, good news. Next chapter will be next weekend. Same time.
> 
> As usual, please leave a review or comment if you can. (A) It makes my day and (B) it sometimes gives me idea about what you guys would like to see and any mistakes I might need to fix. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, or even just want to say 'hi,' PLEASE put it in a review (I respond to almost any question) or in an ask on tumblr (you can find me as 'Redsuitwriter').
> 
> Seriously - I always grin when I check my notifications and find a review or a follow for a story.


	29. Maiden's Blush

_A flexible drink with a dozen recipes, all involving gin and grenadine and the mixer's choice of tequila, triple sec, or curacao. Shake over ice cubes and strain._

Weiss stopped before the door to their workout room, her hand on the knob. Shame washed over her, crashing down onto her back and making her cringe. Guilt gnawed at her insides, turning her stomach over and over as she stared at the blank, featureless door.

It was the only place left that Ruby could be, and the last place Weiss wanted to go. She'd checked the room they shared on her way back from her office. She'd checked the living room and the adjoining kitchen. She had even considered checking Yang and Blake's room before deciding Ruby wouldn't have invaded their privacy, even after ... this.

Her keys were still in the basket by the door, her cloak still hung from the rack. Ruby hadn't left, and she wasn't anywhere else in the penthouse apartment. _Which just leaves here._

She'd almost prefer to go back to her scroll. Have Yang angry with her some more. _I'm sure I can find a few more ways to put my foot in my mouth._ But putting this off helped no one, least of all her.

Taking a breath to steel herself, Weiss turned the knob and swung the door open.

Ruby was there, as she knew the girl would be. Grey eyes flashed up as she entered, dark locks flicking to the side as her head turned to face Weiss. She was laid out on the weight bench, halfway through a rep. The long iron bar was balanced in her hands, her arms rock-steady despite the weights on both sides.

A pang of jealousy bit through the guilt swarmed over Weiss, followed by a passive appreciation for the hard muscles on display. Ruby wasn't Yang – six-pack abs and arms you could hang off of – but her years as a huntress had made her strong. Years of swinging around that massive scythe showed in her toned arms, built less for show or strength than pure control. But she had no trouble with the weighted bar, and Weiss was sure she could handle something far heavier without any sign of difficulty. What she wouldn't give to be able to lift that bar now ... 

"You shouldn't be doing that without a spotter," Weiss said quietly, trying to keep the edge from her voice.

Ruby let the barbell thump back into its holder. She straightened slowly, pushing off the bench until she could sit on the end, silver eyes on Weiss.

"I stuck to the light ones." A wry smile flickered across her lips, and Weiss looked away. _She doesn't even look mad,_ Weiss thought. _And she_ should. _I'd deserve it._ Instead, the expression on Ruby' face was ... resigned. Calm, even a little sad.

That hurt worse than anything.

The silence in the room was long and painful. Ruby said nothing, watching Weiss, waiting for her to speak. Weiss kept her eyes up, words tumbling over and over in her head as she studied the equipment lining the walls. She couldn't bring herself to meet those silver eyes, worried and afraid of what she'd find.

"I'm sorry," she said, when the silence became too much.

"I know." Ruby leaned forward and crossed her arms over her knees. "Dr. Yabai sat me down when we went in for your last exam. We talked. A lot."

She paused, jaw tensing as she decided what to say. Finally, she looked up at Weiss, trying to meet her eyes. "I knew this'd be hard for you, at least until you got closer to normal."

"It doesn't excuse me snapping like that," Weiss said, unable to keep the anger from her voice. Anger at herself, mostly. And the asshat who'd been paid to take a shot at her. Her father for hiring him. Adam for not staying dead ...  _Seems I've got a long list of people to be angry at._ "After working with Yang ... I should have seen this coming. I was the one who helped with her rehab. I should have known what I was in for. I should have ..." she trailed off.

"Talk to me?" Ruby asked. "Please?"

"Ruby, right now, I think _Jaune_ could beat me in a fight." The thought was humiliating. She was a _Schnee._ She was _Weiss Schnee._ After how hard she'd worked to make herself into what she was, after everything she'd sacrificed, everything she'd suffered, to have that all ripped away from her ... it was infuriating.

"The fact that I'm willing to admit that–" Her voice cracked. She swallowed, struggling to keep her anger in check. "I _hate_ this."

Weiss started as a hand gripped hers. She hadn't heard Ruby get up. She looked up to find silver eyes staring into hers, and couldn't find a speck of blame there. No anger, no resentment, not even the recrimination she deserved and half-expected. Just a calm, worried compassion.

"I know," said Ruby, and pulled her close.

"I feel useless." Weiss tensed her jaw to hold back tears. "I _hate_ feeling useless."

Weiss let the younger woman hold her, bringing her head down into the crook of Ruby's neck. They stayed there for a long while, Weiss leaning into her chest, Ruby ignoring the occasional tear falling onto her skin.

When the former heiress stopped shaking, Ruby pulled back, looking away while Weiss wiped her eyes. "I promise, as soon as you're ready, the three of us will run you through the training course from hell. You'll be even more perfect than you were before."

"I'm a pretty far cry from perfect." She sighed. "I'm sorry I lashed out. You don't deserve that."

Ruby made a sound somewhere between a sigh and chuckle.

"Weiss, you're kinda the definition of 'tightly wound'." She saw the scowl Weiss shot her and shrugged an apology. "Yang gets tons of cracks about her temper, but you handle frustration about as well as she does. Your body's not doing what it's supposed to, and that drives you nuts."

Weiss cringed. Ruby had got it in one.

"My point is that this probably isn't gonna get easier. Not for a little while."

"You still don't deserve it." Weiss grumbled, more to herself than Ruby. "I don't know how you're so calm about this. You'd have every right to be angry with me. Anyone else would."

Ruby looked uncomfortable and didn't answer. Her gaze trailed from Weiss to the mats beneath their feet, to the large punching bag handing by the wall. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"After Beacon ... I wasn't there for Yang. I needed answers and I didn't think there was anything I could do to help her. But me leaving didn't help. I guess, this time, I wanted to make sure I was there for you." She took a long slow breath. " _I'm_ sorry. I didn't mean to make this harder for you."

Weiss was halfway to saying she hadn't, then stopped. There were a hundred better ways she could have phrased it, but Ruby was right. The relentless optimism, the constant offers of support, the unending positivity, all of that _hadn't_ helped. It wasn't Ruby's fault – _Weiss_ should have said something, rather than let the frustration boil over. But lying to her, telling her it was fine ... it wouldn't help either of them.

Instead, Weiss brought her good arm up to Ruby's chin, tugging until the younger woman faced her.

The kiss was gentle, sweet, and even so Weiss lost track of time. At some point her hands came up to twine through Ruby's dark hair. One of Ruby's arms reached to circle her waist, and Weiss let the other woman pull her close.

"You dolt," she said when they came apart, letting her forehead rest against her lover's.

Ruby laughed. "You know, eventually, we gotta figure out a better way of doing this. Something nicer than one of us exploding, and _then_ talking about it."

' _One of us' meaning mostly me,_ Weiss thought ruefully. _And she has a point._ She decided it was time to change the subject.

"Do you need me to spot you?"

"I'm done. Do _you_ wanna try to finish that last set?" Ruby asked. "I'll keep the cheerleading to a minimum."

As jokes went, it was a weak one.

"Ruby ... my entire arm aches. I don't think I have another set in me."

"... what if I promised a reward?"

Weiss' eyes narrowed. "I'm not some child you can promise a cookie to get them to–"

"That's not what I meant." Ruby cut her off, her cheeks turning red. "I meant ... me."

Weiss stared at the younger woman, dumbfounded. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, I know we decided it was a bad idea to do anything that might hurt your shoulder. But I, um ... I talked to the doc, a-and–"

"You did _what_?" Weiss shrieked, eyes shooting daggers at the other girl.

" _And_ she thinks that you won't hurt yourself if you arch your back or do something ... you know." Ruby was beat red, stumbling over her words, trying to get them out as quick as she could. "So, if you want, we could ..." Her face turned the color of her favorite cloak. "Have sex."

Weiss blinked. It had been a long time since the two of them slept together. A _long_ time. Half-blitzed on painkillers wasn't a particularly good setting for romance. It hadn't helped that the meds had almost completely killed Weiss' libido. And after, she'd been too focused on keeping ahold of Schnee Dust, defending the throne she'd inherited. They shared a bed, but since her injury, the two of them had barely shared anything more than kisses.

"And if I can't do one more set?" she asked quietly.

"Then we can still ... i-if you're up for it, I mean," Ruby fidgeted under Weiss' stare. "It's been a while for me too, okay? I'd still like to, if you want. But I'll worry less if you can do the last set. And it means you're a little bit closer to being back to normal."

Weiss frowned. Not for the first time, she wondered how Ruby always managed to surprise her. Ever since they'd met, Ruby was always catching her off-guard. Keeping her off-balance.

"Just the one, right?" she asked.

"Yeah. But if you don't feel up to it-"

Weiss stepped past her and thumped down onto the weight bench. "I do."

* * *

In the end, she managed one more set. Barely. By the time she finished, her arm felt as study and solid as overcooked noodles, filled with a pulsing ache that stopped just short of agony.

Letting her rest, Ruby cleaned up the weight room, putting everything back into place before coming to stand by Weiss. She stayed quiet, giving Weiss some semblance of privacy, letting her handle her pain and frustration on her own. There were no offers to help, no insistent reminders of how well she'd done. Weiss was grateful for that. She even waited until Weiss grabbed her hand to pull the former heiress to her feet.

"Lemme run you a bath."

"Ruby, I really don't need you to do that." Weiss' expression soured. Those first few days in hospital, needing help just to make it to the bathroom, had been humiliating. Needing a nurse's help getting into the shower had been worse. "I can handle it myself."

"I know. It's not about ... just trust me?" Ruby muttered, looking embarrassed. "Please?"

Weiss saw the stubborn set of her jaw and sighed. "Fine. Make it quick, please?" She waved at her sweat-darkened clothes with her good arm. "I feel disgusting."

After ten minutes, Weiss seriously started to wonder if Ruby knew the definition of the word 'quick'. She was about to give up and borrow the guest bathroom for a fast shower when she heard the master bath's door unlock.

"You can come in now," a muffled voice called.

Sighing, Weiss stood, pushed open the bathroom door, and froze.

The first thing her eyes landed on was Ruby. A very naked Ruby. A _very_ naked, blushing Ruby in a room that looked like it had stepped right out of a very cheesy eighties movie. The tub was surrounded by candles, flickering along the tiled floor, little rose petals scattered around the room. Bubbles floated around the top of the water, covering it in a large, fluffy cloud. Everything smelled of lavender and roses,

"Is it ..." Ruby stammered, then caught herself. "I, um, thought this might be nice."

 _That's a word for it,_ Weiss thought, trying not to notice the droplets of water running down Ruby's chest. _Overkill is another._ "You didn't have to go to his much trouble."

"I know. But I like doing stuff like this. And ... well, does that offer of a bath with you still stand?"

The corner of her mouth twitched, trying to smile. _As seductions go, this really is unnecessary. It's been as long for me at it has for her._

Giving in, Weiss stepped into the room and closed the door.

Ruby let her undress herself, helping only when Weiss' bad arm made things difficult. Setting the clothes outside the bathroom, Weiss let the other woman guide her down onto a stool in the middle of the room.

She tried to argue when Ruby started rubbing soap onto her hands, but the protests died in her throat as practicing fingers dug into the sore flesh of her shoulder. Deciding it was worth the mild indignity, Weiss let Ruby bathe her, lathering her skin down and doing what she could to loosen some of the muscles in her arm. It wasn't until halfway through, when Ruby was down with her shoulders, that Weiss realized the hole she'd dug herself into. She did manage to keep her eyes forward as Ruby knelt at her feet to gently run her hands up and down Weiss' legs. She didn't dare look down. Her libido was overactive enough as it was. Ruby was being sweet – it wouldn't be fair to cut this short by tackling her girlfriend to the floor. To her credit, she didn't even blink when the other girl gently ran her hands over her thighs. _Although, if she keeps this up, I'll pin her to the wall before she's done._

She breathed a sigh of relief when Ruby finished, using the showerhead to run warm water over her skin. She was about to get up when Ruby started lathering up her back, careful to avoid putting pressure on her shoulder. Weiss let her eyes fall shut. This, at least, was relaxing. And with Ruby out of sight, she wasn't tempted to–

Her mouth went dry as Ruby's breasts pressed against her back. She froze, every muscle in her back going stiff. _She's just grabbing the soap,_ Weiss told herself, eyes still shut. _Knowing Ruby, she's just reaching for something, she doesn't-_

She never finished her thought. Slowly, Ruby's hands slid over Weiss' chest, tracing the toned outline of her core before sliding up her sides to gently massage the soft flesh of her chest. Keeping her eyes shut, Weiss tried to think of work, of her therapy routine, anything other than–

Weiss bit her lip to keep from moaning as Ruby started in earnest on her breasts. Even in the warm bathroom, she was shivering. The tension Ruby was building in her needed to find some way to escape, and she was _not_ going to give Ruby the satisfaction of knowing how quickly she was getting to her. Even if it had been a long time.

Just as quickly, Ruby stopped, pulling back to grab the shower head and let the water wash the suds off her back and chest. By the time she was done, Weiss had herself under control again. She was even able to pry her fingers from their death grip on the stool.

"All done," Ruby said in her ear, her voice soft and teasing.

Shooting her a scowl, Weiss stood and climbed into the tub, trusting the bubbles to hide the red creeping up her face. It was bad enough that Ruby felt the need to tease her. It'd be even worse if the other girl realized how well it worked.

Setting aside her frustrations, Weiss relaxed back into the bath. It was heaven. The warm water soothed the remaining pains in her shoulder, and she felt herself relaxing with every second she spent in that long, delightful tub.

"Better?" Ruby asked, kneeling by her side.

Weiss nodded and sighed. "Much."

"I'm glad." Ruby positively beamed as she set the soap aside, clearing the floor before coming back to the tub. "So, you think there's enough room in there for both of us?"

Weiss ignored the heat trying to rise in her face. "Please," she scoffed, nodding her head at the long porcelain tub. "You could practically do laps in here."

Lying with her head against the rim, she had an excellent view of Ruby's tight ass as she slipped into the bath.

Careful not to bump against her shoulder, Ruby sat between the pale legs, keeping her back to Weiss. She leaned slowly back until her spine rested against Weiss' abs, her head falling back to rest between her breasts.

Ruby stilled after a second, her legs stretched out towards the bottom of the tub. Weiss watched as the bubbles tickled her chin, covering every except her face from view. It was nice, the former heiress decided, leaning back against the curved rim. There was safety here, surrounded by warmth and bubbles and feeling the weight of Ruby's head against her chest.

She glanced down and found Ruby staring up at her. Their eyes met for a second before Ruby looked away, her face red.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Ruby muttered, sinking lower into the water. "I'm fine."

Weiss cocked an eyebrow at that. Ruby really was a terrible liar. 'Fine' for her, involved grins and bouncing and the general cheer that the younger woman carried with her like a cloak. This wasn't 'fine.' She sounded ... disappointed.

"What were you hoping?" Weiss asked, placing her mouth by Ruby's ear. "That I'd knock the soap from your hands and tackle you to the ground?"

Ruby went a deeper red and sank up to her nose.

 _She wants me to lead,_ Weiss thought and sighed. _While I'm worried about pushing her too far._

She cupped Ruby's chin beneath the water and gently drew the other girl up into the air. Their lips touched, barely brushing together before Ruby let out a soft sound and pressed up into the kiss. Weiss was happy to oblige, pulling her closer, holding tighter. The girl she loved was sitting before her, and she planned to cherish every moment those lips were on her own. Weiss felt Ruby's fingers twine with her own, guiding her arms until she'd locked the taller girl in her embrace. Ruby brought one hand up to her chest, guiding Weiss to her breasts.

Weiss sighed, loving that Ruby was allowing her to touch her, to hold her. They'd barely been together a few weeks before her injury. Now, after months of waiting, she could hold her, _be_ with her, let the world vanish as Ruby tried to guide her hand down between her legs.

"Please," Ruby moaned, her lips breaking the kiss only to beg for more.

Ruby seemed intent on guiding her, and Weiss didn't feel like arguing. Actually, there was something embarrassingly, thrillingly dirty in having Ruby control her hand, using Weiss to please herself. The base of Weiss' palm rubbed across Ruby's clit, and the younger woman moaned into her mouth. Ruby pulled her arm, and Weiss stopped, unwilling to enter the woman shivering in front of her. Her fingers dipped and spread, tracing the outline of her lover's sex, her touches feather-light as she listened to the symphony of Ruby's needy whimpers.

"You're a-awful," the younger woman moaned, eyes half-lidded. Her free hand clenched around the rim of the tub as her breath grew heavy.

"That's rich, coming from you." Weiss growled into her ear, loving the little reactions the other girl made. "Especially after you spent the last fifteen minutes teasing _me._ "

Another whimper, and Weiss watched teeth sink into pink lips as Ruby bit back a moan. A hand returned to Weiss' face, drawing her down stare into those gorgeous silver eyes. "Please," was all Ruby said, before pulling Weiss back into the kiss.

Submitting, Weiss slid her fingers inside the girl in her arms, feeling her moan from the intrusion. Slowly, Weiss stroked her inner walls, palm still rubbing against Ruby's clit with each gentle thrust. Ruby fought not to break the kiss, even as her body pulled in on itself as Weiss worked to rub against her most sensitive spots with every thrust.

 _Come on, right ... there!_ Ruby whimpered when Weiss pushed against her g-spot. The sound made Weiss' heart race with lust and pride, loving the feel of her girlfriend in her arms, Ruby's moans in her ears. She'd thought it would be easier from this position, but something about having to reach around someone else was throwing her off. Maybe it was the cramped space in the tub.

Weiss pulled out, the gasping whine telling her how close Ruby was. She helped the unsteady girl to turn, before lifting her up to sit on the rim of the tub.

"Weiss?" Ruby asked, her voice wavering. Her face was scarlet, from the water or arousal, Weiss couldn't tell. Nudging her legs apart, Weiss slid forward, the bubbles caressing her shoulders as she found her position between Ruby's thighs.

"Don't worry," she breathed, bringing her fingers up to stroke the girl's slick folds. "I'm not done with you yet."

Lowering her mouth to Ruby's clit, Weiss watched as the younger girl struggled to keep her fluttering eyes open. Ruby whined as fingers slid back inside her, worshipping every single spot Weiss knew she loved, whining as the soft, pink tongue swirled around the small bundle of nerves. Her teeth bit down into her lip, the came free as she moaned Weiss' name.

It took her barely a minute to finish, crying out as her legs kicked against the porcelain sides. She shuddered and fell forward into Weiss' good shoulder, clinging to her as the former heiress toyed with her, drawing out her throws of ecstasy, teardrops welling up behind her eyes as she clenched them shut.

Finally, her body calmed and Weiss gently pulled away, leaning in to kiss her cheek as Ruby sighed.

"I-I'm gonna need a minute," Ruby groaned, aftershocks still running up her legs. She was a mess, her hair out of place, eyes still only half-open. "Maybe make that five."

"Take your time." Weiss said, smiling. "We haven't even done it on the bed yet."

Grinning despite her exhaustion, Ruby kissed her, and they slid back into the bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Glad that chapter's finally done. Can't commit to having another chapter of this done by next week - I want to focus on Prise de Fleur and maybe some Princess and Dragon if I can find the time. But, I'm curious if people prefer these slightly shorter chapters than the massive, longer ones, if only because it means I'd be able to update a bit more frequently. 
> 
> As usual, please leave a review or comment if you can. (A) It makes my day and (B) it sometimes gives me idea about what you guys would like to see and any mistakes I might need to fix. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, or even just want to say 'hi,' PLEASE put it in a review (I respond to almost any question) or in an ask on tumblr (you can find me as 'Redsuitwriter').
> 
> Seriously - I always grin when I check my notifications and find a review or a follow for a story.


	30. Bee's Knees

_A classic from the age of prohibition. Shake gin, lemon juice and honey simple syrup in ice and strain. Garnish with a lemon twist._

The instant their airship touched down at Schnee headquarters, Yang leapt out, bounding across the roof. There was a brief squeal of fear, of feet scrambling to try and run, and then a yellow blur that wrapped its arms around her younger sister in a bone-crushing hug.

"We're home!" Yang cheered, leaning back and lifting Ruby up into the air, leaving her helpless while Yang spun her around the helipad.

"I know!" Ruby shouted, patting wildly at Yang's arms, trying to pry herself free. "Yang, you're crushing me!"

A dark shadow moved within the airship and a few seconds later, a cat-eared Faunus stepped out, two bags slung across her shoulders. She turned back to say something to the pilot, then followed in the blonde's wake. Blake moved at a more normal pace, climbing carefully out of the airship and closing the bay door behind her, dropping down onto the roof without so much as a sound. Shaking her head at the sisters, she ignored Ruby's cries for help and headed for the white-haired executive by the door.

"Good to have you back," Weiss said, smiling warmly up at the dark figure.

"Good to be back." Blake let the bag drop to the ground and reached out to hug the smaller woman. Weiss returned the embrace, and Blake was relieved to see her right arm wasn't much slower than her left. The injury clearly still bothered her – there was no way it wouldn't – but her hold was stronger than Blake remembered it.

Letting go, Blake leaned back to look down at her teammate. Weiss looked good, maybe even better than she had before they left. There was something about her ... she seemed less stressed, less tense. She wasn't favoring her arm, at least not as much as she had before.

 _The only question is,_ Blake thought as she reached down for the bags. _Which sister helped fix what?_

Glancing back over her shoulder, she found Yang hefting Ruby up into the air, steadily crushing the younger woman against her, completely oblivious to the hands desperately trying to push at Yang's shoulders.

"Careful, Yang. Don't break her," she chuckled. It was nice seeing them like this. One of the worst things about away missions was the effect on Yang. She didn't show it often, but there were times Blake could tell how much she missed her sister. Brief moments when Blake would catch her staring blankly into the coffee pot, or up into the roof of their tent. Yang never admitted something was wrong – she just smiled, made some joke, and went back to whatever she was doing. But someone who knew her well, the way Blake knew her, could tell something was wrong.

Then there was how purely happy Yang looked the moment she got back.

"Come on," Weiss sighed, shaking her head at the sisters' antics. "Stop acting like children. We have work to do."

Her heels clacked against the roof as she swiveled and headed for the door. Blake followed, both her and Yang's bags in hand.

A long-suffering sigh came from behind her. "Fine."

Blake turned just in time to watch as Yang hoisted Ruby up onto her shoulder, the smaller sister shrieking as Yang bounced her and carried her into the corporate building.

"Dammit Yang! Put me down!"

* * *

The boardroom Weiss led them to was sparse but neat, with a long oak table filling out the center of the room. High-backed chairs designed for comfort lined the sides, all turned so they could face the screen at the front of the room. It was a hallmark of Schnee corporate culture, designed to provide an appearance of affluence for visiting executives and employees alike. The corporate narrative was as important as the business itself, and keeping rooms like this the same was one of the few concessions Weiss made as she slowly worked to remove every trace of her father from the company.

The rest of the team funneled into the room behind her, Yang and Blake dropping their bags by the door. Grinning, Yang didn't waste a single second. The moment the door closed, she flopped down into one of the chairs, bouncing as it adjusted to her weight, then began spinning on the axis.

Now that they were all inside, they had a chance to give each other the once-overs they couldn't on the roof. It was a quiet moment, each of them taking stock of the others as they took chairs around the table. It was the little things Blake noticed, small changes that had happened over the past few weeks. An awkward look from Ruby was the only sign that she noticed the bite mark mostly hidden beneath Yang's scarf. For their part, neither Blake nor Yang said anything about how close Ruby sat to Weiss, or how she would periodically reach out to put her hand on the older girl's arm. To Blake's surprise, Weiss barely reacted to the gestures. Normally, the younger Schnee daughter would complain about Ruby being a distraction. But for now, at least, she seemed content to enjoy the contact.

"So-" Yang started, only for Weiss to cut her off with a wave of her hand. Reaching into the bag at her side, the young executive pulled out a small black box with an antenna on the end. While the others watched in silence, she walked the lengths and breadth of the room, sweeping the device over all the furnishings and surfaces she could find.

Only when she had checked every inch of the room did she turn off the device and sit down beside Ruby.

"Are we good?" Ruby asked, her chin propped up on one arm.

"We're clean."

All three breathed a sigh of relief. These rooms were checked daily, but it still didn't hurt to be careful.

"So," Yang said again, playing with one of the pens from the table. "Tell me everything got better since we left."

"No such luck," Weiss sighed. With a few taps on the table's keyboard, the screen on the wall blared to life, giving the team a view of the four kingdoms, each with a little block of text scrolling by, listing the attacks in the last month alone. "Adam and the New White Fang – that's what the media is calling them – are hitting every dust supplier and mining company from Vacuo to Mistral."

"And?" Yang shrugged. "They're back to what they were after the Fall of Beacon. No pretending to actually be fighting for the Faunus as a whole. Either you're on their side, or you're a target."

Blake shook her head. "That's the problem, Yang. They're not recruiting from local Faunus populations anymore. No one trusts them, which means most of us don't identify or sympathize with them. But I've seen those news reports – too many outlets are putting the blame on the Faunus as a whole."

"They're getting blamed for something they had no part in," Weiss nodded and flicked a few more buttons. The text scrolling by each kingdom vanished, replaced with several incident reports, each one detailing another violent altercation between humans and Faunus. "It's making everything worse. Human communities are angry because of the attacks and resent the Faunus for what Adam's doing. And Faunus groups are losing their patience with what they're calling unwarranted prejudice."

"It _is_ unwarranted," Blake snapped. "They're not supporting him, and they don't deserve the blame. Eventually, someone's going to push too hard, and a Faunus _will_ push back."

"Maybe that's the point," Ruby said absently. When the others turned to look at her, she shrugged helplessly and slumped forward towards the table. "Well, what if it is? If no one's gonna follow him, and he still wants another human-Faunus war, then building that hatred's probably his best bet."

Blake shuddered. That wasn't a happy thought. Video of the White Fang attacking Beacon all those years ago had only made underlying tensions worse. Fortunately, Atlas was more than happy to place blame for those attacks on Cinder and her forces, especially since it allowed them to dodge some of the blame for the havoc wreaked by Ironwood's robots. If that meant White Fang involvement was played down to put the blame squarely on Cinder's shoulders, that was fine with Blake.

Those tensions had eased a little in recent years, with no White Fang attacks to escalate things, but Blake had no doubt that Adam being back would dredge them up again. Almost everyone in Vale knew someone who'd been hurt or killed during the Fall of Beacon. If he kept up the attacks, if the blame shifted from him to the Faunus as a whole ...

"Still no attacks on Atlas?" she asked, shaking her head to clear it. Dwelling on this wouldn't help. What would, what they had to do, was stop Adam before things could get that far.

"No." Weiss said, her mouth creased in a frown. "Not since the party. People are saying the assassin's failure and the incident on the highway scared them off. That the SDC has the resources to hire huntresses who can actually hold them back." Blake pretended not to notice when the fingers on Weiss' bad arm flexed. It was a reaction Blake had gotten used to, an instinctive little gesture whenever the memory of the attack crossed her mind.

Ruby's brow furrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "But they're not attacking your outposts. And it's not like we can be everywhere."

"She's right." Yang growled. "It doesn't make sense. We need to-"

"Excuse me, Miss Schnee?" a tinny voice echoed through the small speaker on the table.

Everyone else went silent. Since 'taking control' of the SDC, they'd been careful to keep their plans for Adam and his crew quiet. That meant keeping everyone, including the board of directors and Weiss' new secretary in the dark. The last thing they needed was Adam to get wind of their plans.

Reaching over, Weiss pressed the button that would activate the room's intercom. "Yes, Violet?"

"Visitor for you. A Detective Vardon?"

Yang grimaced, the fingers of her mechanical hand slowly clenching into a fist. Now it was Blake's turn to grimace. Yang had never been the detective's biggest fan, and she still resented him for showing up at Blake's place after the attack. It had made Vardon's reports awkward, to say the least.

Weiss gave Yang one warning look and keyed the intercom. "Send him in."

Four pairs of eyes turned to face the door as the detective strode in, his coat rustling against his legs, spreading the smell of cigarette smoke as he passed. Blake looked him over and frowned – unlike the four of them, he definitely looked the worse for wear. Several days' worth of stubble had crept up the detective's jaw. His hair was neat, but a little long, giving it a shaggier look than she remembered. The black waistcoat beneath his brown trench hadn't seen an iron, and his collar was a rumpled, uneven line of green.

"You look like shit," Yang said, the picture of compassion.

Vardon made an expression that was more snarl than smile. "Haven't exactly had time to shave," he said, grabbing the chair nearest the door. "You've been keeping me busy."

"Report," Weiss said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Her eyes were cold and sharp as she watched the detective like a hawk.

Vardon slumped down into the chair and began the process of digging files from the pockets of his coat. Several manila folders thumped down onto the wood paneling before he finally pulled out a drive and slid it over to Weiss. A few seconds later, they were all staring up at the dossiers of half a dozen criminals, mixed with a series of news articles, each one detailing a different explosion or assassination over the years.

"First, we've got the mask," he said, flicking through one of the files as he spoke. "I could tell you where the metal comes from. Or that the tubing seems to be from one specific manufacturer as part of an accidentally discolored batch that was set aside to be sold for scrap." He fiddled with one of the files until he noticed the death-glare Yang was shooting at him from across the table. Dropping the file, he sighed. "The gist is, parts are all generic, no way to track it back. I have better news on your assassin."

He set aside the report on the masks themselves and pointed at the articles on the screen. "I combed through all the similar kills in the past few years. Any reports I could find of someone wearing that sort of mask. In all of them, the killer's body type matches up with some local criminal with a history of murder-for-hire. All of those local criminals went missing at around the same time, a few days before the attacks."

"So the man who attacked me was a smokescreen," Blake said softly, running through her memories of that night in her head. "Some flunky the real assassin used."

"Seems so," the detective shrugged. "It makes sense in a totally-heartless kind of way. Hire a disposable killer, then force or trick 'em into putting on one of those masks. You get your hit, you disappear the killer, then leave. No direct ties to you." He let out a puff of breath and slumped deeper into the chair. "Pretty smart way to do it, actually."

The sound of metal creaking hit Blake's ears. Glancing over, she saw Yang's face and frowned. The blonde's eyes were red as she glared daggers at the disheveled man, her hand gripping so tight to the table Blake was almost sure it would leave dents.

Blake reached over and laid her hand on Yang's. Startled, the blondes eyes flicked from Vardon to her, still narrowed with anger. Blake met the stare and held it, her own expression calm and cool. She didn't say anything – she didn't need to. It was a conversation they'd had before, several times, and she knew Yang remembered it as well as she did.

 _He's useful for now,_ Blake thought, holding Yang's gaze. _Don't get worked up over this._

Seeing the warning in Blake's eyes, Yang took a breath and blinked. When she looked at Blake again, they were back to their normal violet hue. Turning her hand, Yang twined her fingers with Blake's, the metal cool against her skin. She did shoot Vardon another glare as she leaned back in her chair, but at least she didn't look like she was about to kill him ... not in the room, anyway.

Blake didn't think Vardon had noticed. He was still rambling on about one of the fakes – apparently the last person to see him had noticed a man matching the description of Weiss' sniper in the area.

"Alright," Weiss said, cutting him off as she held her hand out for the files. "You can leave. My secretary will contact you when there's a new assignment."

"You're too kind." Vardon nodded, gave her a bow that from was obviously an exercise in sarcasm, and left.

Weiss waited until the door clicked shut, then ran her scanner around the room one more time.

"So what's the plan?" Yang snapped, when Weiss was sure the room was still clean of bugs, her voice tinged with anger.

"There's not much of a choice. We can't handle this many fires from Atlas, and we can't let Adam run amok across the kingdoms." Weiss sighed and met Blake's eyes. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She had a feeling she knew what Weiss was about to suggest. There was no way in hell Yang would be okay with it.

"We need to split up."

"No!" Yang leapt to her feet, pulling her fingers free of Blake's hand, her eyes already flashing red as she scowled at the heiress.

"Yang-"

" _No._ This isn't a four-day mission to a mining camp." Blake could tell Yang was furious, her hands shaking as she spoke. "This is _Adam_. No one is staying behind while the rest of us go back to Vale. No one-"

"Yang, I _can't_ go," Weiss cut her off, a pleading sound in her voice. "I would be a liability. A distraction. You three would focus on my safety, on covering for me. Me going just puts the team in more danger"

Ruby nodded, her fingers tightening slightly around Weiss' arm. "I'm staying with her, Yang."

"That's not enough. The last time we separated, you ended up in the hospital. We can't-"

Blake reached over and took Yang's hand. This time, the blonde jerked at the touch, hair whipping behind her as she turned to look at the Faunus seated at her side. She tried to tug Yang back into her seat, but the blonde didn't even budge, standing as stiff as a board with her fists clenched at her side.

Yang's eyes were wild, wider than they had been with Vardon, and filled with an anger Blake hadn't seen in months. There was fury there, rage at the idea that something beyond their control was forcing them apart, again ... along with something else.

 _It's panic,_ Blake realized. _For years, we haven't been more than a few hours away from each other. And now, she's facing being continents apart, again._

"Ruby's not the only security she has, Yang." The dark-haired Faunus said softly, before glancing back at Weiss. "I assume you have a plan?"

"The SDC has a large discretionary budget set aside for hiring huntsmen and huntresses. I am sure Ren and Nora could use the money." The white-haired woman shot Yang a sympathetic look. "We'll send team BYRN to Vale. You two, Ren, and Nora find out what's going on. You find Adam, and you take him down."

There was a long pause as everyone looked to Yang, waiting, watching to see what she would do.

"And you two?" she said finally, her voice low.

"Someone has to be behind Adam. Someone is paying those mercenaries, and I know for a fact we tracked down every cent the White Fang had." Weiss' voice went hard as she glared down at the files on the table. "He's hiring thugs, so he's getting his money somewhere. _Someone's_ backing him. And the dust he's stealing isn't going to the black market. Some shipments are destroyed, but many more are being diverted ... I just don't know where yet."

Weiss trailed off, staring intently down at one of the files. After a second, she shook her head and sighed, the air coming out in one long breath that seemed to take her energy with it.

"Either way, none of this is happening tonight." She stood and gathered the files into a neat stack, tapping them once on the table. "You just got off your flight. I think it's time we get you both a real meal and a real bed."

* * *

Weiss closed the door to her office behind the others, citing a one last report she had to file before they could leave. With a grin as wide as she could handle, Ruby attached herself to Blake's arm, gushing about the new coffee shop that had opened on the ground floor, praising the little shop and trying to talk Blake into a cup of tea. Weiss had to admit, she was quite happy with the new installation herself. After all, _she_ was the one who picked the mom-and-pop company to handle SDC corporate headquarters' obscene demands for caffeine.

Their reputation for making delicious and massive cookies hadn't hurt one bit.

With a sigh, she headed back to her desk and sank down into the well-padded leather chair. That was new too, along with the furniture, and the coffee shop, and any number of small changes she'd made in the past few months. It had taken weeks to replace the furniture in the President's office. Now, finally, the room was blissfully free of almost everything that her father had touched. Only the files themselves and a few more permanent parts of the corner office remained. They were still in the process of reinforcing the outer windows. The glass was already bulletproof, but Weiss wasn't about to take any chances. Not after ...

Weiss leaned forward and buried her face in her hands, ignoring the twinge of discomfort from her bad arm. She had known Yang would hate the idea of them splitting up. To be honest, _she_ hated it. No matter who she called in, which of their friends she asked for help, nothing would make her feel safer than having Ruby, Blake, and Yang on call. The fact that Ruby wanted to stay, that she _refused_ to leave ... that was reassuring.

"You okay?"

Weiss twitched with surprise, then forced herself to relax back into her chair. There was no reason to be nervous. Not with everyone back. Plus, she would know that voice anywhere.

"Better," she said, gesturing for Yang come in from the doorway. "You?"

The blonde grimaced and closed the door. "I'll survive. Sorry about blowing up on you."

"It's fine. Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"For what you said yesterday." Weiss took a breath, using the moment to cover while she mulled over what to say. "I know it can't be easy, giving me that sort of advice. Especially with me dating Ruby."

"Yeah, well, you did the same for me." Yang grinned and flopped down onto the plush chair. "Not the dating advice, but the whole 'pull your head out of your ass' speech."

Weiss winced. Sometimes Yang's candor could be a little much, even for her. "I have a very good memory, Yang. I never said that in any of your rehab sessions."

"It was close enough. Plus, I was just being selfish. If you two break up, it'll make it _so_ awkward for us to talk." Yang smirked and crossed one leg over the other. "Can't lose my closest friend who I'm not dating or related to."

Weiss snorted and rolled her eyes. That was one of the nice things about being friends with Yang Xiao Long – one of the reasons why she was always happy to have the pun-loving blonde around. Knowing that no matter what happened, Yang would always try to cheer her up. It helped that Weiss actually enjoyed the puns, for all she complained. That, and Yang's incorrigible, irrepressible sense of humor was always charming, even when she using it as a shield.

"Yang, I want you to know, I wouldn't ask you two to go alone. Or send Ruby anywhere without backup." She met Yang's eyes and held them. "Everything's going to be fine. They're my family too. I won't let you lose them."

"I know." Yang's jaw went tight, the laughter slipping from her eyes. "Still ..."

Weiss nodded. "Still." Yang didn't have to say it. Weiss knew better than anyone how it felt, being terrified of losing the only people you cared about.

Yang cleared her throat before the silence became too much. "You want a drink? They still haven't cleared out your dad's wet bar." Moving a little too quickly from the chair, she strode over to the wall, long legs covering the distance faster than Weiss' ever could. "How's whiskey sound? Come on, I need this."

"... my father drank whiskey."

There was a long pause as Yang met Weiss' gaze. "Gotcha."

Reaching across the bar, Yang grabbed two bottles, several plastic bags, and a couple of glasses, then arranged them all on the small tray set aside for when big-name clients came to visit. Placing the tray directly on top of Weiss' quarterly earnings report, Yang hefted the rounder of the two bottles. It was cognac, a reconstruction of the original blend from the distillery's founder, with _eaux de vie_ more than a century old. Everything Weiss heard about the bottle said it was flawless, a perfect attempt at an impossible task.

Weiss had been eyeing that bottle for weeks.

"To drink," Yang said, passing it carefully over to Weiss. Her other hand hefted the bottle of whiskey with all the delicacy of a baseball bat. A too-short glass bat wrapped in several plastic bags. "To smash."

Weiss shot Yang a wry smile and opened the first bottle. "That'll work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Well, that's finally done. Sorry about the wait, as always and for it being a bit of a slow chapter. I needed to get them through the planning stage so they can start doing what they need to do.
> 
> As usual, please leave a comment if you can. (A) It makes my day and (B) it sometimes gives me idea about what you guys would like to see and any mistakes I might need to fix. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, or even just want to say 'hi,' PLEASE put it in a review (I respond to almost any question) or in an ask on tumblr (you can find me as 'Redsuitwriter').
> 
> Seriously - I always grin when I check my notifications and find a review or a follow for a story.


	31. Red Lotus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Blake have a moment alone, and with a new mission coming up, Yang finds ways to deal with her nerves.

_One and a half ounces of vodka and lychee liqueur each, followed by one ounce of cranberry juice. Shake and strain into a glass filled with ice for a simple, sweet, and refreshing drink._

"How long do you think they'll be?" Blake asked Ruby as they stared back at the bank of elevators.

She had to admit, as much as she expected to loathe the place, the building suited the Schnees. The first floor was professional to a fault, cold metal and glass separating the building's orderly ground floor from the chaos of the world outside. Well-padded chairs sat in circles around low tables every so often, waiting areas set aside for those not privileged enough to ride the lifts to the upper floors of Schnee HQ.

"Weiss said she'd be right down, so ... ten, fifteen minutes?" Ruby shrugged, her cloak rustling from the motion. "There's always one more file she has to read. Wanna get some tea?"

Blake didn't feel like arguing, and within minutes the two were seated inside the first-floor coffee shop, cardboard cups steaming in front of them. They chose a table by the window, so they could watch the bank of elevators, waiting for the other half of their team to arrive. Soon the air filled with the smells of Blake's tea and Ruby's cocoa, and the occasional sounds of Ruby biting into a cookie as big as her plate.

"Is Weiss normally like this?" Blake asked and took a sip of her tea. It wasn't bad. Rather good, actually. She was used to substandard tea from anywhere that wasn't a dedicated tea shop. Most coffee houses didn't bother to let it steep long enough. Or they used some ground-up instant formula that never tasted quite right.

Then again, _Weiss_ was the one who vetted the shop's owners. Trust her to make sure they could brew an acceptable pot of tea.

"You mean the working-at-all-hours thing?" Ruby laughed and bit off another chunk of chocolate-chip cookie. "Yeah. I've had to drag her away from her desk a couple times. She gets _really_ into stuff, and doesn't want to let it go until she's completely satisfied with it."

"So, exactly the same way she was in school?"

Ruby laughed, a cheerful little sound that rang off the windows. "Pretty much."

Blake smiled and leaned back in her chair. It was nice to have moments like these, chances to truly relax among friends. Even if it was just a brief respite before she went back on the road.

"How is Weiss?" she asked, leaving the second half of her question unsaid. From the look Ruby gave her, she knew exactly what Blake meant.

"Better." Ruby stared into her cup, her face falling just a little. "Getting better. It's slow, and she doesn't always notice it, but her arm's a little bit stronger and a little bit quicker whenever we work out."

"That's good. And you?" Blake asked, shrugging when Ruby shot her a questioning look. "You weren't as active in the planning up there as you normally are."

Not it was Ruby's turn to shrug. "I dunno. It just feels weird. I mean, it's Weiss' company." She scratched awkwardly at the logo on the cup, digging little groves into the cardboard with her nail. "I'd feel really awkward telling her to spend her money on a mission. 'Specially when she's the one hiring _us._ "

Blake nodded, her tongue playing along her teeth. "That's fair, I suppose." She hadn't thought about what this must be like for Ruby. Blake had been treating it as any other hunting job – commissioned by a client who needed Grimm handled and was more than happy to pay. Even if it was Weiss paying them, she hadn't given them any orders beyond asking them to check in on a few mining sites.

But for Ruby, this was her girlfriend. Her lover who was now also her boss, or at least her client. That had to make things a little ... weirder. Definitely more difficult, at least until they figured out how it fit into their lives.

"Um," Ruby said, making an obvious effort to change the subject. "How's ... how're things with you and Yang?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just, are things ... good?" Ruby asked, her face flushed. "I ... saw the bite on her neck. So it looks like you guys are doing okay, but we're friends and I just wanted to ask."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, no, it's just ... new. She's, um, she's never had those before. "

"Really?" Blake frowned. That was interesting. Between the two of them, Yang was the experienced one. It might have been the first bite like _that_ she'd given Yang, but they weren't strangers to scratches, and Yang had been the one to leave gentle love bits along her neck before. _Odd, she didn't say anything._

"Yeeeah. I mean, I'm never been looking for it, but," the younger girl trailed off, her face even redder than before. "Okay, _now_ I'm uncomfortable. Can we please talk about something that's not my sister's sex life?"

"Sorry." Blake looked back down at her drink, turning the cup absently in her hands. "I didn't pay too much attention to when Yang was dating before."

"Join the club." Ruby's voice was heavy with the frustration of a younger sister.

"Sorry, Ruby." Blake paused, eyes watching as her breath left ripples in her tea. She wasn't quite sure what to say. With the attack on Schnee manor, Adam returning, her new relationship with Yang, everything was just changing too fast. She and Yang were fine, but with everything else going on, they hadn't found the chance to do much more than be together.

It wasn't hard, they'd lived in close proximity for years, but there was so much Blake wanted to do, wanted to try. She wanted the classic experience, the stories she'd about in her books. She wanted lunch dates and dinners, and nights just spent enjoying each other's company. Not just the brief moments they could steal between missions,

"Yes, to answer your question," she said finally. "Things are good, for the most part."

"Are you happy?"

 _That_ she could answer. Blake looked up into silver eyes and smiled, not a doubt in her mind. "Yes."

"Great." Ruby grinned and took a sip of her own drink. "She's ... I haven't really seen Yang like this before. She's liked people, sure, but I can't remember her being this serious about someone."

Blake cocked her head to the side. She wasn't quite sure, but it sounded like ...

"Is this where you tell me not to hurt her?"

"What? No." Ruby said quickly, shaking her head. "That's really not it. I'm _glad_ you two finally got together. If anything I'm jealous."

"Jealous?" That caught Blake's attention. "Why?"

"Well ... Weiss is more," Ruby paused, pursing her lips as she tried to find the right words. "You know what Yang's like. After her mom left, Summer died, you left, _I_ left ... I guess part of me thought she'd be careful about letting someone in. But she trusts you, _really_ trusts you, and I'm happy she does."

"But you don't think Weiss trusts you?"

Ruby shook her head. "It isn't that. Weiss doesn't trust _herself_."

Blake waited for Ruby to say something more. When she didn't, the Faunus reached across the table and put her hand on Ruby's, smiling when she looked up. She didn't say anything – there wasn't anything to say. Not really. Nothing more than the hope that Weiss would work through whatever was holding her back. The promise that if Ruby needed anything, Blake would be happy to help. _But Ruby knows that_. _We all do._

Sighing, Ruby scarfed down the last of her cookie and smiled. "I meant it, by the way. I'm really glad you're together."

Thinking of nights spent sleeping by Yang's side, or with the brawler's arms wrapped around her, Blake blushed. She nodded, and covered her cheeks with another sip of her tea. "So am I."

"You being happy – that's pretty much all she wants." Ruby tried for another sip of her cocoa, found the cup empty, and huffed in disappointment. "Well, and to punch Vardon through a wall."

"Speak of the devil."

Ruby's eyes followed Blake's, turning to look at the two young women stepping out of the elevator doors. They were an odd pair, the tall grinning blonde and the professional-looking woman with her white hair pulled back. Looking down at her watch, Blake shook her head and shot Ruby an apologetic look. Ten minutes, right on the dot.

As their girlfriends approached, Blake and Ruby got to their feet, chucking their empty cups into the recycle, before joining the other two outside.

"You guys have a good chat?" Yang asked, slowing her pace as they headed down to the parking lot below the building, letting Weiss pull ahead so Ruby could walk beside her. She looked cheerful, a nice change after how badly she'd taken Weiss' plan.

"We did, actually," Blake said, her nose twitching as she moved to stand by Yang. "Why do you smell like alcohol?"

"Turns out, plastic bags are great at catching bits of glass," the blonde grimaced and rubbed at the skin on the back of one hand. "Not so good at holding liquids. Not with the glass, anyway."

"It's _your_ fault for not sealing it," Weiss said over her shoulder. Yang just shrugged, completely unphased and just as unapologetic.

Looking between the two of them, Blake shook her head. "Do I want to know?"

Yang and Weiss looked at each other, the blonde twitching one brow in a silent question.

"Yang ... helped me throw away some of my father's possessions," Weiss said, speaking just a little slow as she chose her words. "Thank you for that."

"Don't mention it." Yang shrugged. "So, where're we headed? Home?"

Blake looked around at her team, at her partner and lover standing beside her. At their friends walking ahead of them. Smiling, she took Yang's hand and stepped forward to grab Ruby's. Their leader's hand closed on Weiss' and soon Blake had them all, pulling them steadily towards Weiss' car.

"Home."

* * *

Unpacking always took longer than Yang expected. The tent, the sleeping bags, the camping gear, all had to be pulled out, washed or left to air in the back room Weiss called a 'closet'.

 _Seriously,_ Yang thought as she finished stretching out the tent across half the room. _I know she said the company president needed a residence in the city, but the sheer size of this place is ridiculous._

Sighing, she clapped dust from her hands and stepped back, gazing about the storage room. Ponchos and snow gear sat in one corner, alongside a set of mapping gear Weiss insisted they buy and no one ever used. Yang's tools and some of the Bumblebee's replacement parts sat in the corner, ready for the next time she needed to perform maintenance on her bike. A good bit of their travel gear was here, sleeping rolls and canvas tents bundled up and ready for long journeys. Not that they made much use of them lately – other than a few trips to the SDC's mines, there hadn't been much reason for them to leave the city.

 _I miss the old days,_ Yang thought, clicking off the lights and closing the door behind her. _After the Salem crisis, after everything cooled down. I miss going on missions with Blake and the team, finding Grimm to hunt._

Yang stepped out into the hall and breathed, smelling the soft lavender scent from the air fresheners Weiss left outside the closet. It was oddly domestic, along with the feel of the hardwood floors beneath her toes.

_I miss things being simple._

There were a lot of good memories from that time, wandering from town to town, helping keep some of the settlements outside the kingdoms safe. Ruby had been keen to show them what she'd seen of Mistral, the villages she had passed through with their friends, the forests they'd seen, the food stands and different cuisine they'd found across the continent.

Even after, when they'd decided to stay together and hunt as a team, to find jobs asking for groups of huntresses – there had been a lot of fun then. There was something nice about the simplicity of a Grimm hunt. Straightforward, no listening bugs or snipers, just a ravenous monster that needed to be put down. Dealing with whoever had it out for Weiss, Adam's return ... Yang couldn't wait for everything to just get back to normal. For them to return home to Vale and go back to defending people from the kind of monsters that couldn't hide.

 _Still,_ she mused, stepping out into the living room and smiling at the sight before her. _There is definitely an upside to all of this._

Blake was stretched out on the sofa, legs tucked up beside her. She had her nose in a book – _always a book –_ with the cute, focused look she always had when she got completely drawn into whatever she read.

Yang stood back and just enjoyed the scene. Blake's ebony locks trailed down the arm of the couch, her feet twitching every so often as she turned the pages. One hand fluffed through her drying hair, still just slightly damp from the shower she'd taken while Yang finished unpacking. Her eyes flickered rapidly over the lines, quickly absorbing one page before moving on to the next, leafing steadily through the paperback. There was something adorable about the whole thing, how Blake could be so pretty, so focused, and so oblivious at the same time.

With a grin, Yang hopped down onto the far end of the couch, bouncing a few times before she settled against the leather. Blake barely seemed to notice, eyes never leaving the book even as she pulled her legs in to give Yang more room.

"Hey, Blake? What'cha doin?"

Golden eyes peered owlishly over the top of the book, blinked once, and then vanished as Blake turned her attention back to the book at hand.

"Yang, I'm trying to read."

The blonde sighed and flopped back on the sofa. She was bored. That was something their teachers back at Beacon never managed to mention – or had forgotten after years spent in classrooms. Those days, Yang had imagined a huntress's life as weeks or months spent on the road, only to return late one night, collapse into bed, and let the sheer comfort of life wrap around her tired form like a quilt.

In a way, she had been right. There was always a grace period after a long hunt, a lull of exhaustion and relief as normalcy once again set in. It was relaxing, comforting ... for a time. Then everything just felt quiet. Still. Like someone had pulled the adrenaline from her life and left her ... restless. Waiting for the next excuse to take to the road.

To be fair, it usually took several days for that restlessness to set in. Not hours. The knowledge that she and Blake would be heading out the next morning was probably to blame, not letting her fully relax when she knew what tomorrow would bring. Normally, she'd take the listlessness and work it off on a couple bags or at a club. But with Weiss and Ruby out for groceries, it gave the other half of the team some time alone ... and Blake wanted to spend it _reading._

 _Alright_ , she thought, seeing the inherent challenge and completely confident she could draw her girlfriend's attention. _Time for the dramatics._

"Fine." Yang leaned back and flopped one arm over to lie across her face. "I'll just have to accept that my girlfriend is more interested in a dusty old book than she is in me. Not that it's anything _new_." She sighed with melancholy, giving it all the subtlety of a pulsing neon sign.

Blake peered up over the top of her book and rolled her eyes. "You're not going to let me alone, are you?"

"No."

"... fine. Come here."

Grinning, Yang slid beneath the outstretched arm and wriggled her way between Blake's side and the back of the couch. It took them a moment to find a good position, but soon Yang was lying with her head on Blake's shoulder, one arm sneaking behind the Faunus' back to hold her closer. Blake's own arms closed around her, holding her book out above Yang's hip.

"Better?" Blake asked dryly, despite the twinkle of amusement in her eye.

Yang nodded and closed her eyes. It was easier to unwind like this. Easier to keep her mind off their next mission so long as she felt Blake's warmth beside her. Squeezing just a little closer, she nuzzled into the crook on Blake's neck and sighed.

"Much."

That was how Weiss and Ruby found them on their return, with Yang drowsing comfortably inside Blake's arms while Blake flipped through the middle pages of her book. That warmth carried her for a while, until Blake had to get up to help Weiss with dinner. Then Ruby plopped down, happy to keep Yang's listlessness at bay, chatting like old times, with Blake and Weiss' conversation drifting in from the other room.

Dinner came. Blake's curry – hot enough to make even Yang grab for the milk – was intense enough to keep her distracted for a time. A brief fake-argument with Weiss didn't hurt, nor did Ruby's suggestion of a movie night, especially since it meant more snuggling with Blake. They broke by pairs, Weiss and Ruby on the loveseat while Yang and Blake took their previous positions on the couch.

It wasn't until the credits rolled, that Yang's restlessness reared again. She could feel her foot twitching, trying to get some of the energy out, while Weiss helped a half-asleep Ruby onto her feet. Seeing the younger woman's head bobbing as she desperately tried to stay awake, the two said their goodnights and headed to bed.

Blake and Yang stayed where they were for a little while, lying comfortably on the couch, neither one particularly inclined to move.

"When do we leave?" Yang asked quietly, her thoughts turning to the mission.

"Noon." Blake turned another page. "Weiss said one of her commercial airships has some space set aside for four unnamed crew members."

"Anonymous and unregistered. Just how I like it," Yang quipped, sarcastic at the idea of having to hide. "We should probably get some sleep. Ten to one, we're gonna need it."

"You're probably right."

With a sigh, Blake kissed her on the cheek and untangled herself from the couch. Drumming her fingers on the armrest, Yang watched as Blake stood, stretched, and headed down the hall to their room, the smile slowly slipping from her face.

 _I_ really _miss things being simple._

* * *

Shrugging her way into a robe, Blake slid beneath the covers and clicked on her reading light. It would take Yang some time to get ready for bed, and she planned to take advantage of every second before the brawler begged her to kill the light.

If there was one thing she disliked most about away missions, it was how difficult it was to keep books safe. Sure, she could put them on her scroll, but it wasn't the same. It always felt emptier without the pages in her hand or the musty scent of the binding.

Which was why she always took advantage of any time they spent off the road. Here, she could keep her books safe, where rainstorms or mud wasn't likely to ruin them beyond recognition. If she could just get through a few more chapters before they had to leave ...

"So how's the book?"

Blake glanced up to find Yang perched on the edge of the bed, still dressed and kicking her feet aimlessly.

"It's good," Blake said, hackles already raised. Yang's tone was calm. Even. Mellow.

That could not mean anything good.

Yang was not a 'mellow' person. Anything she did, she did with passion. It was something that always impressed Blake. Yang was the kind of person to get so involved in a video game that she didn't even notice when Nora knocked down the door. Or realize that she had a habit of biting down on her tongue when she focused – something Blake was not about to tell her.

A 'mellow' Yang was a warning sign, a bright distress beacon that screamed mayday for a thousand miles, warning everyone it could that something was about to happen.

"Cool," Yang said, nodding. "Sooo ... is it interesting?"

"... yes?" she said, and gave Yang a questioning look. _Now_ Blake was concerned. Yang was definitely up to something. If she could just figure out wha-

"How interesting?"

Blake sighed and scowled over the top of the paperback. Whatever Yang wanted, it could wait. Blake was halfway through the second-to-last chapter and Yang _knew_ how much she hated having her reading interrupted. "Very. And I'd like to get back to it if you don't mind."

"Is it more interesting than me?"

_Oh crap._

"Yang, I'm trying to read," Blake said pleadingly, knowing exactly what Yang was about to do.

"I know." Yang grinned, her fingers coming up to the buttons of her jacket. Within seconds, the brown leather was discarded on the floor, quickly followed by her belt and socks. "It's annoying in that cute 'my girlfriend is a bookworm' kind of way."

"So, what's it about?" she asked, her voice perfectly normal and completely at odds with the way she bent forward, giving Blake a view straight down her shirt as she slowly edged her shorts down over the curve of her ass.

Blake's cheeks went red as she tried to go back to her reading. " _Yang_ , I really want to finish this."

She tried to duck behind the pages as Yang peeled off her shirt and dropped it to the ground. All that meant was she couldn't see Yang crawling up the bed until it was too late. Before she knew it, the blonde was straddling her legs, pushing down her book with one hand and undoing her bra with the other.

"That's really unfortunate," she purred, refusing to cover herself as she dropped the black bra onto her pile of clothes, followed by a pair of boyshorts Blake hadn't seen her pull off. "I was kinda hoping we'd do something else tonight."

Blake swallowed and tried to look at anything other than the full, heavy breasts hanging literal inches in front of her. "I'm going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else."

Yang's grin turned positively feral. She leaned forward, filling Blake's views completely, before plucking the book from the Faunus' rapidly weakening fingers. Slipping in a bookmark, she set the novel aside and turned back to her girlfriend, eyes filled with a playful lust that made Blake's nerves sing.

"Make me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, as always.
> 
> As usual, please leave a review or comment if you can. (A) It makes my day and (B) it sometimes gives me idea about what you guys would like to see and any mistakes I might need to fix. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, or even just want to say 'hi,' PLEASE put it in a review (I respond to almost any question) or in an ask on tumblr (you can find me as 'Redsuitwriter').
> 
> Seriously - I always grin when I check my notifications and find a review or a follow for a story.


	32. Black Patent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake finally tells Yang about her relationship with Adam.

_Shake vodka, lemon juice, and Simple Syrup in a cocktail shaker with ice. Strain into a chilled glass and top with a good stout._

“I mean it, Weiss,” Ruby said, trying and failing to cover a yawn. “I’m ... f-fine.”

The younger woman could practically hear Weiss roll her eyes as she half-dragged Ruby the last few feet into their room. She shut the door behind them, the latch closing with a loud and satisfying click. Managing to keep Ruby balanced against her shoulder, she turned them both, facing the king-sized bed that dominated the far end of the room. The silken sheets were pulled tight across the mattress, pillows piled neatly at the end, building up from the pair on Weiss’ side to the mountain of softness that Ruby slept with.

“I’m ...” Ruby yawned again, rubbing one hand over her eyes. “I’m awake.”

Ruby heard the exasperated sigh before she felt the strong arms let go. Too tired to move, Ruby staggered for a moment, lost her balance, then toppled forward and collapsed face-first onto the bed. Her body thumped into the mattress, bounced twice, then settled.

“Right,” Weiss said dryly. “Completely fine.”

Ruby turned her head just enough to see Weiss standing beside the bed. “Meanie.”

With another roll of her eyes, Weiss helped Ruby up onto the bed. Gentle hands found her arms, guiding her up onto a spot against the pillows before the heiress sat down at the vanity across from the bed.

As tired as she was, Ruby kept her eyes open, watching as Weiss undid her hair from her trademark ponytail, letting the long white strands trickle in waves down her back. She had already removed her makeup after work, but that never stopped her from running one last cleanser over her skin, as particular in her routine as she always was.

Ruby bit back an offer to help as Weiss rose, tugging her shirt off over her head before drawing one of her nightgowns down over her hips. As much as she wanted to help, she knew Weiss wanted, needed, to do this sort of thing herself. Prove to herself day after day that her injury wouldn’t prevent her from performing basic tasks. So Ruby lay there in silence, watching, waiting on the off chance Weiss’ shoulder acted up or the heiress asked for help.

Tonight appeared to be a good night, and Weiss managed to get her healing arm up through the sleeve with little difficulty. Combing her hair back over her shoulders, Weiss flicked off the lights, raised the covers, and slid onto her side of the bed.

“Goodnight, Ruby,” she said softly, then rolled over, placed her head on her pillows, and closed her eyes.

Now it was Ruby’s turn to sigh – a short, annoyed huff that blew her bangs out of her eyes. Weiss had settled in on the far side of the bed, practically lying against the edge, as far from Ruby as she could manage without sliding off the mattress. It wasn’t a surprise. Even back at Beacon, Weiss always slept practically against the wall, still and unmoving, a sharp contrast to the younger girl who thrashed and writhed as she slept in the bunk above.

“Weiss?” Ruby asked, her voice quiet, in case her girlfriend had already managed to fall asleep. It wasn’t likely, Weiss normally took a while to finally drift off, but just in case ...

“Yes, Ruby?”

“Could you,” Ruby paused and bit her lip. “I know I move a lot when I sleep, but I’ll try not to. You don’t have to lie all the way over there.”

“Just trying to give you enough space.”

 _Liar,_ Ruby thought. She huffed again, then wriggled her way beneath the covers, moving until she could reach Weiss across the bed. “Maybe I’d move less if you held me. I know you have a way you like to sleep, but half the fun of sleeping together is, you know, the _together_ part.”

Weiss turned as the hand brushed her shoulder, looking back to stare through the darkness into Ruby’s face.

“... alright.”

Pulling the covers up, Weiss slid across to the center of the bed. Grinning, Ruby turned, giving Weiss her back, scooching back the last few inches until Weiss pressed against her through her pajamas. She sighed and snuggled back against Weiss, enjoying the feeling as an arm draped over her side above the sheets.

So maybe it wouldn’t be easy. Maybe she’d have to wheedle, cajole, and annoy Weiss into stuff like this, but she’d get her there. Get her to the point where she could make a simple gesture, without worrying that she was making the wrong move. That she was pushing Ruby into anything. Maybe it would take some time, some work until Weiss trusted herself enough to not need Ruby to lead her. But they would get there.

 _Eventually_.

* * *

Blake moaned through her teeth as Yang’s hands slipped beneath her kimono, nimble fingers quickly undoing the ties that kept it closed. Heat rushed through her, driven on by practiced caresses up her sides, Yang’s touch feather-light against her skin. There was no pushing, no immediate need, just that strong, endless lust burning in Yang’s eyes. Never taking her hands away, Yang mounted Blake’s leg, sending another wave of heat coursing up the Faunus’ face as she realized exactly how wet Yang was.

Then Yang kissed her, and she melted back against the pillows, propped up against the headboard while she’d tried to read. Now they kept her trapped, pinned by the buxom blonde grinding against her thigh.

Blake reached up into Yang’s hair, running her fingers through golden waves as they came apart, Yang turning her head to press a kiss against her neck. Then another, and another, each one a little lower and broken by one long, slow, thrust of Yang’s hips against her leg. Blake hummed as Yang moved down to her collarbone, opening her eyes as she leaned down to return the favor, ready to press her own mouth to Yang’s neck.

She froze, eyes locked on the mostly healed bite mark, still a little red against Yang’s skin.

“Yang, wait.”

With a frustrated moan, Yang pulled back, brows creased as she stared down at Blake. “Yeah babe?”

“Are you really okay with these?” Blake raised one hand, running it up the side of her neck, just barely brushing over the mark. She’d known what she was doing at the lake, and Yang _had_ told her it was fine ... still, she needed to hear it.

“What?” Yang blinked for a second, confused, before she realized what Blake meant. “Oh. Yeah, they’re fine. I told you, Blake,” she grinned, leaning in and gently nipping at Blake’s ear. “I’m fine with you being a little rough. It’s nice to mix things up, and I like it when you keep me guessing. And so you don’t have to ask again, you have my permission to do that whenever you’re on top. Or when I have you beneath me and you lose control.”

Yang winked, then dropped back down to Blake’s chest, kissing along her collarbones while the Faunus breathed and knotted her fingers into the bedsheet. “Yang, wait,” she gasped, feeling a twinge of guilt as Yang groaned with frustration. “This is our only night here.”

“Yeah,” the blonde nodded. “Which is why I’d really like to get back to it.”

“Just, is there ... is there anything you want to try?” Blake made Yang look at her, trying to read her face as she stared into those gorgeous violet pools.

“What brought this on?”

“Because you’re right. It’s nice to mix things up. And I like it when you surprise me too. Plus,” she narrowed her eyes, and bent her neck just enough to nip lightly at the bite mark. “I owe you for letting me lead by the lake.”

Yang sighed, halfway between vexed and turned on as Blake nipped her again. “You really don’t owe me.” Pulling back, she swung herself off of Blake’s leg, dropping down onto the side of the bed. “You really want to try something new?”

Grabbing the sides of her kimono, Blake covered herself back up, not bothering with the ties. Not when Yang was certain to take it off again. “Come on, Yang. Surprise me.”

With a grin, Yang stepped out of sight, moving over towards their closet. A wanting growl broke from Blake’s throat as she watched the blonde bend over at the waist, deliberately presenting herself as she rummaged around in the boxes on the side. For all Yang admired Blake’s ass, for all her obnoxious comments about the ‘Bellabooty’, Yang’s was just as nice a view. Even with half of her hidden by the closet door, Blake couldn’t quite tear her eyes away from the tanned legs, toned muscles rippling as Yang tensed, then stood.

“Do me a favor,” she said, taking a box under one arm and heading towards the bathroom. “Close your eyes.”

The sound of water from the other room hit Blake’s ears, and she relaxed back against the pillows, waiting while Yang washed off whatever they were about to use. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax, tried to not to wonder just what Yang was getting ready. She had reacted well to Blake using her ribbon to tie her hands ... maybe this was more of the same.

A dozen different ideas ran unbidden through Blake’s mind, most of them drawn from the collection of romance novels she kept in a box beneath her nightstand. The image of Yang in black leather came to mind, followed by the blonde cuffed and bound to the head of the bed, writhing as she waited for Blake to touch her.

The door creaked, and Blake had to bite her lip to keep from opening her eyes.

“Alright,” Yang said, her voice a throaty growl that promised as much sin as Blake could think of. “Open ‘em.”

Blake did. Yang stood contrapposto at the end of the bed, hip cocked to one side, golden locks playing over her shoulders. Black straps criss-crossed over her hips, and right at the center, extending out from her lips, was a pitch-black strap-on.  

Blake swallowed, her pulse racing as her eyes locked on the dildo strapped to Yang’s hips. In an instant, all of her fantasies of Yang vanished, her blood going cold as the blonde walked closer.

 _It’ll be fine_ , she told herself, fingers tightening against the sheets. This was Yang. _Yang._ She trusted Yang. She did. Implicitly. Yang would never hurt her, never do anything to harm her. This _would_ be fine. Nothing bad would happen. It-

A hand brushed her shoulder, and Blake jumped, her breath coming in short bursts as she looked up into frowning violet eyes.

“Blake, what is it?” Yang asked, eyes widening as she looked down at her girlfriend. Blake swallowed, her gaze flickering from Yang to the toy between her legs, and before she could say a word, Yang was stepping out of the straps, whisking it away and out of sight before joining Blake again on the bed.

She was kneeling by Blake’s side in seconds, one hand still on her shoulder. “Blake. What’s wrong?”

Blake shook her head, heat returning to her cheeks. Now _this_ was humiliating. She’d overreacted. Panicked. And worst of all, Yang had noticed.

“It’s f-”

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s fine.” Yang cut her off, eyes sharp even in the darkened room. “I know that look, Blake. Please.”

The dark-haired Faunus swallowed and looked away. She should have known Yang wouldn’t just let this go. That she wouldn’t let her shrug it off as a misunderstanding.

Hands cupped her face, tugging gently until Blake finally turned to face her.

Yang’s eyes were wide, her face was filled with worry. They flickered back and forth as the blonde tried to meet her gaze, desperately looking for some answer, some reason why she’d done something wrong.

“Please.”

“The only person I’ve been with like that,” Blake said, her throat closed tight. “Was Adam.”

Yang went still. The fingers holding her face twitched for a second, tempted to knot into fists, then relaxed, sliding down from her face to hold Blake by the shoulders. She didn’t say anything. Blake almost wished she would. Instead, she just sat there, watching her, holding her. Waiting.

“I just ...” Blake choked on the words, stumbling as she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can-”

“It’s okay.” Yang spoke before she could finish. “It’s okay. _I’m_ sorry. It was meant to be a fun surprise. We’ve used dildos a couple times, so I figured ...” she trailed off, teeth sinking down into her lip. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have brought it.”

Blake took one long, shuddering breath. Reaching out, she pulled Yang to her, bending her head down until she could rest it against Yang’s shoulder. She was warm, as always, all hard muscles and soft curves unlike anyone else Blake knew. 

“Adam wasn't ... I don’t know how to say it.”

Yang bit her cheek to stop her grinding teeth. “Did he hur-”

“No,” Blake cut her off before she could finish, trying to banish the worst from Yang's mind. “Not like that. But there's a reason why you're the first person I've been intimate with in a long time.”

“I trained with him after he took control of the Vale branch of the Fang. He was looking for fighters, people who had skills he could develop. Out of everyone, he picked me, said I had potential.” Her jaw went tight. “Back them, he was _Adam_. Everyone's hero.”

“He was a good teacher. A good mentor. And then, one day, he kissed me.” She shuddered at the memory, her skin crawling as she remembered how fond it had once been for her. “He was my first.”

“You can stop, if you want,” Yang said, her voice tight. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Blake shook her head against her lover’s shoulder. “I do. I _need_ to.” When she had her anger under control, she pulled back, taking Yang’s hand in hers.

“He was Adam. My teacher, my partner. At the time, he was one of the only people I was close to. And I didn’t mind the kissing. At the time, I even enjoyed it.” She swallowed again, trying to clear the lump from her throat. “Eventually we had sex.”

Thankfully, Yang stayed silent. Blake didn’t know how she would have handled it otherwise, if Yang had cut her off with the myriad of questions Blake had asked herself. How she could have ever cared for him. How she could have _ever_ seen him as something other than the cruel monster who’d ... who’d crippled Yang to hurt _her._

“A person will put up with a lot from someone they care about,” she choked out. “Until they fail you so completely that you realize they're not who you thought. Then, all those little problems, those little failings come rushing back, and you wonder how you didn't notice in the first place. Did he change? Was he good once? Kind? Or did I just remember him that way? Was he always _this,_ and I just ignored it?”

“He used to call me ‘his,’ Yang. His partner. His pupil. _His_ lover.” Blake said, her shoulders shaking. “When it hurt the first time, I assumed it was normal, that I just had to get over it. A few more times, and I figured it was just me. That it would just always be like that.” She swallowed, gathering her courage, and forced herself to look into Yang’s eyes. It was hard to look at her.

“You're the first person to make me enjoy this. You’re the one who made it about _me._ You didn’t-”

Yang didn’t let her finish. Her hand left Blake’s as she pulled away, and for a split second, the Faunus felt her heart break. A part of her had always known this would happen. That this was the rejection she’d always expected, the reason she’d never told Yang. Then strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and held her close, pinning her against Yang’s chest.

Something fell onto her shoulder. One drop, then another. Nothing major, nothing more than a few single, solitary tears. _Still,_ Blake thought, wrapping her own arms around Yang. _She’s crying._

“I’m sorry,” Blake said softly, running a hand through Yang’s hair.

“You ever apologize for that again,” Yang said, her voice hard. “And I will kick your ass. Not your fault.”

She sniffed, then pulled back. She didn’t let go, something that made Blake happier than she could have imagined. Just pulled back far enough of meet her eyes.

“You’re crying,” Blake said, wiping one of the tears away with her thumb.

“You’re not,” Yang sniffed again, rubbing at her eyes. “You should. More of a right to than me.”

Blake just shook her head. “I ran out of tears for this a long time ago.” She wiped one last tear away from Yang’s cheek, then leaned forward to press a kiss against her forehead. “Yang, if there’s anything else you want to do, I’ll do it. Happily.”

“God, Blake. We don’t have to-”

“Yang, tonight is probably our last night in _our_ bed, together, for a while.” Blake said, low and soft. “I want this too. And I want to move past him. I am done letting him ruin my life. I’m done letting him affect me, and I’ll be damned if I let him ruin anything for us.”

“Are you sure?” Yang asked. “You ... I’m fine just going to sleep, you shouldn’t have to feel like you have to-”

“I don’t. You interrupting my reading is a little vexing, but I love that you’re spontaneous. I always will.”

Yang nodded slowly, let out a breath Blake hadn’t known she’d been holding, then sank back down against her. Slowly, Blake leaned back, bearing them both down against the bed, wrapping herself around the blonde amidst the tangled sheets. So maybe tonight wouldn’t be something new, some surprise from Yang that made her heart race. That was fine. Those could wait.

“Did you mean what you said,” Yang said, her voice soft. “That you want to move past him?”

“More than anything.”

Yang breathed, the pushed herself up off the bed, rising until she was sitting on the mattress, staring down at Blake.

“If this isn’t okay, that’s _fine_ ,” she said, reaching down to hold Blake’s hand. “If the idea of having sex like that at all, using a strap-on, makes you nervous, then just say no. I’ll hide it so well you’ll never see it again.” She swallowed, and squeezed gently. “But, I _do_ enjoy it. A lot. I’d like to enjoy it with you. So, would you use it on me?”

Blake blinked. That ... she hadn’t expected that. Maybe something slow, and tender after everything she’d said, but ...

“I won’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s really not that hard.” Yang stopped and smiled faintly. “Heh. ‘Hard.’ Plus, I know you. I trust you. I know you’ll do everything you can to make it good for me.”

“... okay.”

“You mean it?” Yang asked, her voice wavering, just for a second. “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. I meant it when I said it’s _fine._ ”

Blake sighed. One arm reached up to twine behind Yang’s neck, pulling herself up as she pressed her mouth to Yang’s. “I’m willing to try. If I need to stop, I’ll tell you.”

A minute later, Blake stood by the bed as Yang secured the straps around her hips. It was a different dildo than the one Yang had used – that one had an insert, a shorter end for the wearer to enjoy, and something they both agreed was a step too far. For now, at least. Yang had chosen a different toy from her collection, and Blake couldn’t help noticing it was long and thicker that the one she’d put away.

 _Of course it was,_ she thought, as Yang fixed the last strap into place. _Of course Yang would try to keep things mild the first time we did anything new._

“How do you want to do this?” she asked, shifting on her feet. Having something ... hanging off her hips was a new feeling for her, especially with how Yang had placed it right against her clit. Every motion, every thrust, would tease her, and that was probably exactly why Yang had done it.

Yang grinned up at her from the bed. Her smile looked a little more cautious than normal, a little more careful, like she was watching just in case Blake couldn’t keep her promise, couldn’t tell her if something became too much. Pushing off the bed, she slid down to the floor, kneeling by Blake’s feet.

Blake swallowed. The sight of Yang on her knees went a long way towards fixing the mood Blake had ruined. Violet eyes stared up at her through the darkness, playful and anxious at the same time. Practiced fingers rubbed circles against her thigh, slowly working their way up until Yang gripped her hips with one hand, holding her in place.

“I thought we’d start with this.” With one last teasing look, Yang leaned forward, and ran her tongue down the length of the toy. Blake gasped, not from the tongue running circles over the silicone, but from the hand she hadn’t seen rubbing the exact same circles over her slit. Glaring down at Yang, she was met only with a silent grin as the blonde continued, slowly taking the toy into her mouth as two fingers slid easily between Blake’s folds.

There was a second of silence, broken by Blake’s groan as she grabbed onto the bed, needing something to hold onto and knowing that Yang’s hair wasn’t an option. This was ... she’ wasn’t quite sure how to describe it. Yang’s fingers were nothing new. Neither was the steady, gentle pressure against her clit as Yang moved her mouth up and down the head of the strap-on. And yet, it still felt different enough to keep her on her toes, to drive her to tortured moans as Yang’s fingers thrust in and out, moving at exactly the same pace as her mouth. She’d prefer to have Yang’s face buried between her legs ... now _that_ was an idea.

Filling the image away for later, Blake let out her breath and let herself relax into the feeling of Yang’s fingers curling inside her, as her mouth ground the toy ever harder against her clit. She was trembling already, more from anticipation than sheer arousal, but it was a distinction that was very quickly fading.

“ _Yang_ —,” Blake gasped, her hand tightening on the headboard as the blonde curled her fingers right where she needed them. Her breath was ragged, her legs starting to shake even as Yang’s free hand moved to help support her. Blake called her name again and again, wrapping her lips around that one hard syllable. Yang might have a dozen nicknames for her – babe, lover, Blakey, kitten when she was trying to make her aggressive – but Blake had never seen the need for anything else. Anything other than that one word that ripped from her throat in one last shuddering gasp as Yang took the toy down to the base, pressing her fingers _hard_ inside her, and Blake came undone.

The pressure against her clit vanished, Yang moving to hold her upright as Blake sagged forward, riding out her climax on the fingers that stubbornly stayed inside her, constantly teasing her, until her muscles went limp and she tumbled into Yang’s arms.

She moaned softly as Yang pulled out, wiping her fingers on the bedsheets before pulling the Faunus up onto the bed with her.

“How was it?”

“Perfect,” Blake managed, still twitching a little as the aftershocks faded. “But you know that, you ass.”

Yang just grinned and kissed her, running her hands through pitch-black locks and leaving lingering caresses across her skin.

“Think you’re ready to return the favor?” she asked, when Blake started pressing back into her, her own fingers finding purchase amidst waves of gold.

Blake nodded and pulled away, watching nervously as Yang moved onto all fours, propped up on her hands and knees.

“Yang ...”

“When you do it right,” the blonde said, staring at Blake over her shoulder. “It feels as good as anything else we’ve done.”

“Plus,” she grinned, her ass swaying just enough to make it impossible for Blake to look away. “I like it like this, kitten. And I like letting you take the lead. So unless this is too much, and it’s okay if it is, would you _please_ come here and take me”

Rolling her eyes, Blake caught Yang’s shoulder before she could move, and pressed her back into place. To her credit, Yang let out a shaky laugh and let Blake press her down into the mattress, shifting until she rested on the flats of her arms. Carefully, Blake lined herself up, letting the head of the toy slide gently through Yang’s folds.

“This isn’t all from before, is it?” Blake asked, seeing the slick folds and the wetness that reached down Yang’s thighs.

What she could see of Yang’s face went pink. “I really like making you happy, Blake.”

Smiling to herself, Blake continued to slide the tip across Yang’s sex. Soon the silicon was a wet as Yang, helped by the rocking motion of Blake’s hips as she rubbed it back and forth across her lips.

“Come on, Blake,” Yang moaned breathlessly, her hands knotting the sheets. “Either fuck me, or-”

She never finished, cut off by a full-throated groan as Blake slowly thrust the toy inside. Careful not to hurt her, Blake inched forward, moving a little deeper with each short thrust, stopping just as half of the toy vanished inside Yang’s sex. Yang’s head had dropped with the third thrust, a mass of blonde hair hanging down over her face as she breathed, waiting while Blake slowly worked the strap-on inside her.

“Is this alright?” Blake asked after a minute, seeing the white knuckles of Yang’s hands, the tension running up her thighs and through the muscles of her back. Adam had always started fast, and that was the last thing she wanted for Yang. “Should I-”

Impatient and impossibly turned on, Yang thrust her hips back in one quick thrust, hilting the toy inside her. Their bodies were flush together, Yang’s ass pressing against Blake’s hips as she let out all her breath in one long, satisfied moan.

“You’re doing fine,” Yang said, her breath labored, looking back over her shoulder at the surprised Faunus. “But you really don’t need to be this gentle. Hard and fast in, slow out, and angle it up so it drags-” she broke off with a gasp as Blake thrust into her, _hard_ , exactly the way she asked. Hands seized her waist, pulling her back and forth as Blake steadily fucked her into the sheets. Each thrust slammed inside, the tapered base spreading her wide. The tip dragged along her walls, again and again until Blake could feel Yang’s legs trembling with every thrust.

“Better?” Blake asked, a little breathless herself. Every thrust rubbed the back of the toy against her clit, sending little shocks of pleasure coursing through her, growing stronger with every one of Yang’s moans. It wasn’t enough to push her over the edge, not by a long shot, but having Yang beneath her, hearing her cries ... _that_ definitely helped. That, and the sight of the toy digging in and out of Yang’s flushed lips.

“Close,” Yang gasped, her shoulders shaking as her hips fought to meet Blake’s with every thrust. “I mean it, kitten. I promise, I’ll tell you if you do something wrong. Now _fuck_ me.”

Blake wasn’t sure if it was the use of the nickname or the sound of that curse on Yang’s tongue. That, or the knowledge that Yang _was_ enjoying this and practically begging for more. Either way, something clicked, and Blake drove herself forward, one hand coming up to grip Yang’s breast as she pressed into the brawler’s back.

Yang cried out, her arms collapsing as she fell forward onto the bed, her ecstatic wail echoing in Blake’s ears as she rutted into Yang’s eager slit. She might have stopped at that, paused to check that Yang was fine, but for the constant, repeated pleas for more, for Blake to go harder, faster, to finally take Yang over the edge Blake had already pushed her to.

There was no thought, no reason, her rhythm long forgotten as she pounded again and again into her with everything she had. One hand came up to sweep the mass of blonde hair aside, then Blake darted forward, breasts pressing hard against Yang’s back as she sank her teeth right where the blonde’s shoulder met her neck.

Tension rolled through Yang’s body as she came, finally broken by the teeth marking her neck, by Blake’s hand roughly kneading her breast. Her back arched, her body shaking and trembling as she came undone, Blake’s name one breathless sound drawn out in a silent scream. She collapsed forward, pressed against the bed with Blake’s body atop her, still thrusting, until the pressure against her clit and the feel of Yang beneath her was just enough to bring the Faunus to climax too.

 _Mine,_ Blake thought, eyes shut tight as she sank her teeth in Yang’s shoulder one more time, going still as mild shakes ran up her legs. It wasn’t strong, far less than when Yang had fingered her just moments before, but it was enough to make her want to catch her breath. Her body was still flush with Yang’s, her breasts pressed against the furrow of her back, listening to her lover gasping for breath, moaning her name.

 _My name,_ Blake thought in the back of her mind, her body relaxing slightly as she came down from her high. Yang felt so good beneath her, warm and comforting, everything that made her fall for the blonde in the first place. Hearing that voice, so quick to make a terrible pun or a horrible joke, rasping out her name as she panted against the sheets ... it was heady. Hearing the pleasure in Yang's voice, knowing _she_ was the one to give it to her, feeling her fingers twine with Blake's on the bed, that was even better.

_My name. Mine._

Someone giggled. Finally opening her eyes, Blake looked down at the woman beneath her, hair splayed everywhere, her body covered in sweat. Slowly, Yang turned her head to the side, staring back up at her as best she could, choking back a laugh.

“Mine, huh?”

“... you heard that?”

Yang’s breath came in ragged pants, but that didn’t stop the smirk that slid across her mouth. “You bet I did.”

The pit of Blake's stomach twisted as she pulled away. “Yang that's not ... I didn't mean–”

“I know, Blake,” she groaned, one hand fumbling until it found Blake’s in the dark. “Still ... yours.”

Blake went still, then slowly pulled herself off of Yang, taking care to be gentle as the toy slid from her folds. She moved back, sitting on her legs as Yang rolled and stretched, before flopping back onto the bed with a satisfied sigh.

“That’s not fair,” Blake said, her voice cracking. “You can’t ... _I_ can’t-”

“I know,” Yang hushed her, one half-limp arm pulling her down until Blake lay against her chest. “I know.”

They lay there for a long time, Yang basking in the afterglow, running one hand in lazy circles along Blake’s back, leaving the Faunus to wonder what she had ever done to deserve someone like her.

“How was ...” Blake asked, fumbling for the words. “Was that good?”

“You were great,” Yang said with a smile, nuzzling her face into the mass of dark hair splayed over one shoulder. “I’m definitely riding you next time, though. If you’re up for it.”

Forcing herself up with one hand, Yang helped her pull the straps off, then set the toy aside to clean later. Too tired to rise, Blake let her girlfriend tug her back down into the sheets, pulling the covers over the both of them as Yang kicked and wriggled until their bedding fell into place.

“Big spoon or little?” Yang whispered as they settled, drawing a laugh from Blake. Shaking her head, she rolled over, giving Yang her back, and smiling as the blonde’s lips pressed lightly against her neck.

“Yang?” Blake said softly, staring out at the wall. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask something selfish? I know it’s one more thing, especially after tonight, but ... may I?”

The blonde pressed even closer, legs twining slowly between her own. “Always.”

“... you have a habit of getting up before me.” Blake paused, trying to find the words. “I haven’t mentioned it, but ... I don’t like waking up alone. Not anymore.”

Yang stayed still for a second, then Blake felt a soft tug on her shoulder. Blake turned to find Yang facing her, a small sad smile on her face. Scooching forward, she pressed herself against Blake’s side, laying her head on Blake’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be. I should have said something.” Blake sighed. She knew why Yang was always the first one up. Why the blonde was such a light sleeper these days, why she always,  _always,_ woke the second Blake left the bed. Blake didn’t blame her for that. How could she? It was her fault. She was the one who had given Yang another reason to fear being left alone, left behind.

Which was why she knew Yang would understand.

“Could you stay until I wake up?” she asked, quietly, pressing her lips to the blonde’s forehead. “Please?”

Yang reach out to pull Blake to her, hugging her tight, locking them together beneath the covers. “I promise, babe. I won’t leave the bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's a bit late - it went a bit long. And I know the last two chapters have leaned a bit heavily towards Bumbleby, but that'll swing back and forth - I did two WhiteRose-focused chapters before they came back to HQ, so there'll be more of that and the action/plot coming up next.
> 
> As usual, please leave a review or comment if you can. (A) It makes my day and (B) it sometimes gives me idea about what you guys would like to see and any mistakes I might need to fix. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, or even just want to say 'hi,' PLEASE put it in a review (I respond to almost any question) or in an ask on tumblr (you can find me as 'Redsuitwriter'). I also put sneak peeks for my stories on tumblr, so you can find extra content there.
> 
> Seriously - I always grin when I check my notifications and find a review or a follow for a story.


	33. A Short Trip to Hell

_Equal measures of peach, strawberry, and wildberry schnapps mixed with eight ounces of an energy drink. Shake, strain, drop in a shot of herbal liqueur ... and then suffer._

The next morning was filled with last-minute packing, finding the few things that hadn't found a place in their bags, and stuffing them wherever they could find the room. Before either Yang or Blake knew it, Weiss was bundling them out the door, into the towncar waiting to take them all to the Schnee corporate hangar.

It was a long, busy drive to the airport. Ruby chatted the whole way, talking about what it was like to work security for Weiss, badgering Yang to come take a turn at security detail when they got back – and trying to sell Weiss on the idea of having all three of them in dark suits, walking menacingly behind her as the Schnee Company President went about her duties. For her part, Weiss kept them just as occupied. There was always one more detail to cover, one more quick point to make about their plans while they were still able to chat face-to-face.

Yang and Blake were leaving their scrolls behind, just in case anyone happened to try to track them. Weiss had a plan to make it look like both women were out in the middle of nowhere, spoofing their signals to make it look like the two were off on some errand. The rumor she was having Ruby 'accidentally' spread around the office was that the two of them were off investigating the site of a new mine. But that meant two new scrolls for the young women, pure Atlas tech decked out with all the bells and whistles Weiss could find.

The chatter only started to falter as their car pulled into the airport lot. It died completely as they taxied around to the private entrance and pulled up alongside the Schnee company jet. Weiss and Ruby stayed out of sight, hidden in the depths of the car as two women they barely recognized stepped onto the tarmac.

"How do we look?" Yang asked, smiling widely beneath her face-concealing sunglasses.

Weiss just shook her head. Yang was enough to make a passer-by do a double-take, clad in a tight green Mistralan blouse that clashed with her eyes ... whenever they weren't hidden by her designer shades. Her hair was bound back in a severe bun, pinned in place and completely in line her image as a young corporate shark. Blake's hair was pulled back, her ears shoved up beneath a cloth cap that matched the navy blue of her three-piece suit.

"Ridiculous," Ruby laughed from inside the car. "It's perfect. Ren and Nora won't even recognize you."

"I wouldn't go that far." Weiss looked between the two women, a worried look settling over her face. "Be careful. Both of you. The IDs you have are legitimate, and as far as the SDC is concerned, Ciara Dwale and Li Yue have been at the company for years.

'Yue' patted her blonde bun and stared imperiously over the rim of her glasses. "Couldn't you have picked something more interesting? There's like, a million-"

"It's a fake name, Yang. It will be fine," Weiss cut her off. "'Li' is generic. That is sort of the point."

She sighed one last time. The shadows from the car's interior played across her face, keeping half of it in shadow as she moved forward to smile reassuringly up at them. "I wish I was going with you," she said softly, her hand tightening on Ruby's when the younger girl slipped her fingers into Weiss' palm. "Good luck."

Nodding, Blake closed the car door and headed for the hanger, Yang right on her heels.

* * *

Ruby and Weiss watched as the plane lifted off the ground, the sleek Schnee corporate jet fading into the distance until only the last wisp of a contrail was left. For a minute, Ruby wished she was going with them, that she was the one going off after their best lead on the people who attacked Weiss. _Then again_ , she mused, settled back into the leather seats. _I'm the one who wandered off to Mistral._ _Guess it's fair I'm the one who stays behind this time._

Weiss seemed just as lost in her thoughts as Ruby was. Even after the last wisps of white vanished, she kept staring out the window, up towards the sky with a rapt expression on her face. _Plus,_ Ruby smiled and scooched over towards the young executive. _I've got a mission here anyway. One I get to keep all to myself._

Pushing the armrest out of the way, she settled herself against Weiss' side, leaning her head down to rest on the older woman's shoulder. It was still another minute before Weiss tore her eyes away from the sky, taking a deep breath as she turned back to Ruby and straightening her suit.

"Come on," she said, and tapped the soundproof divider that cut off their driver from them. "I've got a meeting to get to."

"I thought you were visiting applied sciences this morning." One benefit to being Weiss' official bodyguard, Ruby got to check over her schedule every day. It was part of her job to approve routes and adjust meeting times when keeping Weiss secure needed more transit time than her secretary had set aside. Ruby had quickly learned that this was the only way she could convince Weiss to actually take breaks – setting aside extra travel time so she was always a little too early the simply head in to any one meeting. Those were the times Ruby could convince Weiss to relax, to put her scroll down and just lie back against the padded seats.

"Last-minute change of plans." Weiss said, her words clipped as her eyes scanned across her scroll. She was already in 'work' mode, dead to anything that wasn't directly related to the business at hand. "There's an investment group buying up SDC stock. Some of the board are concerned about a hostile takeover."

"You know who it is?"

"Some financial group called RGI." Weiss shook her head. Ruby frowned, but at least Weiss didn't seem concerned. After all, even if this group posed a threat, she owned the controlling stake in the company. Plus, it had to be hard to be worry about the fate of a company she didn't even _want_ to run.

"I have people looking into them, and it's probably nothing. With Adam's attacks on other dust companies, investors are seeing Schnee Dust as the last safe bet – our stock price gets a bump every time there's another raid."

Ruby frowned deeper and glanced at her across the towncar. As happy as she was to be here, keeping Weiss safe ... she wished she could be there for Blake. They all knew how their friend felt about her former mentor, the fear they'd heard in Blake's voice the first time she'd admitted Adam was back. "You think that's part of his plan?"

"I doubt Taurus is particularly concerned about my stock portfolio," Weiss drawled, sarcasm tinting her voice as she swiped through page after page. "Unless they're attacking other corporations first, so that when they _do_ attack us our stock tanks." When Ruby didn't answer, Weiss finally looked up from her scroll. Seeing her frown, the white-haired woman reached out and patted Ruby's leg. "Like I said, I doubt he cares. It is probably just a side effect of the New White Fang avoiding Schnee operations. It'll balance back out eventually."

Ruby shrugged. The bull Faunus had never been the most stable or predictable of people. Then again, corporate espionage wasn't really his style, either.

Accepting that there wasn't much she could do one way or the other, Ruby put her hand down on top of Weiss'. Whatever was going on, Yang, Blake, Ren, and Nora would take care of it. If anyone could, it'd be them. As for her ...

 _As for me,_ she thought, squeezing Weiss's hand with hers. This had been a long time coming. Now that Weiss felt better and the two of them had time to themselves, she finally had her chance.

_Operation Thawing Heart is go._

* * *

The flight to Vale was uneventful. Yang spent most of it drowsing, her head leaning on Blake's shoulder while her girlfriend read. True to her word, she even waited until after Blake finished the last chapter before snuggling tighter against her neck, pushing as close as she could to the Faunus. As the only two passengers, they had the long cabin to themselves, with only the occasional visit by a flight attendant to interrupt them.

 _Which means,_ Yang thought, grinning as she felt Blake shift slightly to lay her head atop Yang's blonde mane. _We could always join the mile high club ..._

A soft huff came from beside her, and Yang looked out of the corner of her eye to find Blake drowsing against her, breathing softly as she slept. Smiling, Yang lifted her head enough to lower Blake down onto her shoulder. There was something so adorable about Blake where she slept, about how relaxed she looked snuggling up to her. _And it means a lot, that she trusts me enough to be that vulnerable around me._

Yang decided to let her sleep. Mile-high shenanigans could wait until the return trip home. Instead, she just stayed still for a while, breathing in the scent of Blake's shampoo. A fight was coming, and Yang had a feeling it would be a nasty one. But they had their friends at their backs, and for right now, everything was calm. They _would_ be fine, no matter what Yang had to do to make sure that happened.

It would be fine.

Something beeped loudly, and Blake stirred against her shoulder.

"What's that?" she asked, blinking drowsily.

Yang winced and yanked her scroll out of her pocket. This high up, the signal was blocked, so it must have connected to the airplane's in-flight internet. _That's what I get for getting a new scroll,_ she sighed and flicked it into silent mode. Checking the screen, she smiled, then slid it back into her pocket.

"It's Ruby. She needs to talk later." Yang said, pulling Blake back down against her. "I'll find some time to sneak off to the CCT tower after we meet our contact."

She felt Blake nod, hair brushing against her chin. "Yang," she said, low and quiet. "Are you ready for this?"

"Yeah." Yang took Blake's hand in hers, holding it gently as she held her girlfriend to her side. "Are you?"

"... as ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

Robin's boots clicked against the concrete floor with every step. Marks where carpet had once stretched from wall-to-wall still remained, criss-crossing the grey slab beneath his feet.

 _I have to give it to her_ , he thought, fighting a grimace at the sight of the red-haired Faunus by the window. _Mal sure has a talent for finding these places._

The building serving as Adam's current hideout was an abandoned high-rise on the end of Vale's industrial district. It was scheduled for renovation during the big push to revitalize the city, but after the funds fell through, it had just lingered there. It was probably owned now by whichever bank had backed the loan, waiting for a chance to offload the property as soon as they had the right buyer. Until then, it languishing, slowly crumbling, a lifeless shell of what it once was.

A fitting place for the redhead brooding by the window. _They go together so well._

"You're late," Adam snapped, masked face turning to face the newcomer.

"Dunno why you're surprised," Robin drawled, putting his back to the window. Sighing, he leaned against it, jamming his hands into the pockets of his coat as he thumped his head against the pane. "I'm always late."

Adam just snarled and turned, marching away from the window to the makeshift desk. Computer equipment lay scattered across the surface, monitors sitting alongside stacks of flashing boxes, little LED lights flickering as long cables ran down from the setup and deeper into the building.

"Everything set up?"

Adam drummed his fingers along the largest cable before sitting down at the largest monitor. His fingers moved hesitantly across the keys, typing with the practiced care of someone who rarely found the time or desire to type. "We're tapped into the CCT. As long as we only send or receive during peak hours, we'll be able to fly under their radar."

Robin hummed and made his way over to the screen. "Any chance we could tap other communication being routed through? I know I'd _love_ to see what the SDC is saying right now."

"Not without them knowing we're here." Adam growled, erased part of a command, and started typing again. "Anyway, Malkyn said she would pass along any information we needed."

"Right. Mal said," Robin purred, pacing around to the other side of the desk. "You know, I was wrong, you are different. Such a good lapdog these days."

"You—"

"Adam. Robert."

Robin grinned and stepped back, eyes twinkling at the Faunus. Adam was half out of his seat, hands gripping tight to the arms of his chair. But he'd frozen the moment the voice came out of the monitor speakers, rigid with anger as he glared with impotent rage at the 'detective.'

_It's so much fun to have a predictable partner._

"Here," Adam snarled and sat back down in the chair, glowering as Robin made his way back into view of the camera atop the desk. He stood a good ways back from the table, crossing his arms as he leaned against a support pillar and smiling the entire time ad Adam's seething. It really was always fun to poke the bull.

"Report." Mal's voice was as crisp and cold as always, and even the distortion from the speakers couldn't hide the complete lack of emotion in her voice.

"They're planning on laying low," Robin drawled before Adam could open his mouth. "Schnee is keeping her team close just in case our boy here goes after her again. Red's by her side twenty-four-seven, and she has the rest of her team running point keeping an eye on her holdings."

"And?"

"And what? You asked me to keep an eye on them. I push too hard and they'll get suspicious."

"Very well. For time being, you'll stay in Vale. Coordinate with Adam as his support."

"Yeah, no," Robin said quickly, pushing off his pillar and moving towards the camera. "If someone spots me or puts two-and-two together, my cover's blown. Then your 'in' at the SDC is history. When they _do_ finally get over their fear of Mr. China Shop, you won't have someone to warn you."

Mal's tone never changed, but a very thin line developed between her brows. "Nothing you've brought me in the past few months has been even vaguely useful, Robert. Either they're not planning anything at the moment, and your presence there is unnecessary, or they are, and you're either too incompetent to worm into their good graces or not clever enough to get it by other means."

"That's—"

"My employer agrees with me, Robert." Mal snapped, her eyes cold. "Your time running errands for the Schnee girl is done."

"Now, Adam," she said, turning her attention on the red-haired man. "Since neither of you seem capable of running an operation on your own, I want a full account of your activities. Start with your raids. With just a little oversight, you two may actually be able to pull this off."

* * *

"I'm still not sure how your boss talked mine into this," the grizzled foreman grumbled as he dropped into the seat prepared for him.

"Let me guess," Blake said coolly, keeping her eyes on his face, watching for any tell, any hint of a lie. Weiss said they could trust Braun ... but Blake wasn't feeling all that trusting right about now. "Especially since Schnee shipments are the only ones that haven't been hit?"

Folding her hands over her lap, Blake gave a quick look over the private room. The impromptu meeting had needed a location, so Vale Dust, Inc. had rented out the back room of one of the middling-to-nicer restaurants in town. Not nice enough to seem ostentatious. Just enough to count as a perk for a visiting foreman of thirty years. They'd waited until the Foreman had arrived, and then joined him in the back, as disguised as they could be without being obvious. Blake's ears still sat beneath her cap, hidden from sight. Yang sat next to Ren on the other side of the room, shades off so the lavender of her eyes could clash with the emerald blouse. She'd spent their trip to the restaurant hanging off their friend's arm, acting the devoted partner on the off chance anyone was watching them. Ren had on a pale suit that would have made a Schnee proud, his dark hair braided and arranged to hide the pink streak along the side, while Nora sat with Blake, pretending to take notes on her scroll. Her shorter hair was a blessing – she was now a mousy brunette, her fiery locks hidden beneath a surprisingly convincing wig.

They weren't the most perfect of disguises. Blake had a feeling that even with changes she'd added to her walk and their incongruous outfits, someone who knew them would be able to point them out. Even switching partners and travelling separately might not help. But no one knew they were in Vale. Weiss had made damn sure of that, so with any luck, the White Fang wouldn't be on the lookout for people matching their description.

Taking comfort in the heavy door that blocked off the private room, Blake turned her attention to the older foreman. Braun was a stocky, heavy-set man in his late forties, with slate-grey eyes that suited him, stubborn and deep-set in a tanned, pock-marked face. The leathery skin of his hands and the lines over his brow spoke of hard labor and years of experience in the harsh environment of the dust mines. Looking at him, Blake couldn't quite shake the sense that she was looking at a rock. The kind of person who could weather whatever life threw at him and emerge on the other side battered, beaten, but ultimately unscathed.

According to whoever Weiss' VDI contact was, Foreman Braun was exactly that. He had a sterling reputation as a company man and was, to all reports, well-liked and trusted by his workers. From the dossier Weiss had sent her, his mine wasn't the most productive of their holdings, but it seemed the most reliable, and the safest. The aged former miner kept his facility in order and up-to-code, which was more than some Schnee mines could claim. Blake had visited more than a few over the past few weeks as part of Weiss' new direction for SDC, and even she had been surprised by just how dangerous the conditions were.

The older man crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. Blake could practically hear him digging his heels in. "Just not sure why you're getting involved. The current situation seems to be suiting the SDC just fine."

"Only because he's been avoiding Atlas. Because the company hasn't been directly invested in Vale's dust business since the Fall of Beacon." Sighing, Blake slid the dossier aside. "He _will_ target us eventually. Better to take care of him now than wait until he's even stronger."

Braun met Blake's eyes then, hard and grey and impenetrable. Blake met him stare for stare, refusing to blink as the older man sized her up. The others sat silently, Nora practically vibrating as she waited for someone to say _something_.

Finally he nodded and unfolded his arms. Reaching for the drink in front of him, he knocked back a good bit of the amber liquid, then thunked the glass tumbler back onto the table. Reaching for her own glass – this one just water – Blake couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just passed some sort of test.

"If it means less of my guys get shot watching over these damn trains, I'm all for it," his voice filled with just as much gravel as before, but there was a softer note to it. "What exactly are you using this for?"

"Adam's not dumb," Yang chimed in, picking up where Blake left off. "He has to know local dust suppliers will try to find ways around his raids eventually. That's what this should look like. You trying to sneak a dust shipment by him."

"And what, hope he attacks?"

Blake shook her head. "There has to be some way he's getting information about shipments. You've tried different routes, changing schedules at the last minute. None of that's worked."

Braun took another sip and grimaced, although Blake had a feeling it wasn't the liquor that left a bad taste in his mouth. "We know someone's leaking info to them. For the life of me, we can't figure out who."

"Which is why we make it clear that there will be a secret shipment," Ren spoke up, his voice light and gentle as always. "Just with no mention of SDC's involvement."

Yang pulled one of the sheets out from the file Blake had brought and slid it over to the foreman. "Put down its official cargo as broken equipment or something. Then you make sure the rumor goes out that it's actually dust – that you're risking pissing off the transit company to get dust past his Fang."

Broun looked down at the sheet for a long moment, then back up to Blake. She could see the caution in his eyes, as the man weighed the options before him, running through each step of the plan to see where something could go wrong. It was an expression she'd seen on her father's face more than once, back when he ran the original White Fang, when he'd tried to balance all the sides of the Faunus rights movement without letting things boil over.

"And if he doesn't hear the rumor?" he asked finally.

"I said we just call him out," Nora perked up, thumping her fist down on the table. "Say you have two awesome hunters protecting your shipments. That no one would _dare_ attack with a huntress like Nora Valkyrie on board!" She grinned, then looked around at the other's blank faces. "What? Be honest. We all know he'd go after the train just to prove a point."

"Maybe. But it'd be better to catch him by surprise. If it doesn't work, we try again, and if it comes to it, we can always say I'm the one guarding the train," Blake said, ignoring the worried look Yang shot her across the room. "Nora's right. He wouldn't pass up on that chance."

Foreman Braun glanced back down at the page Yang had given him, the sighed, and reached for his pen. "I'm not convinced this is a good idea."

"Neither am I," Blake said, honest as she watched the man slowly fill out the requisition order. "But it's the best one we've got."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Whiterose stuff is about to pick up - next chapter should be ... fun for the people who enjoy that.
> 
> As usual, please leave a review or comment if you can. (A) It makes my day and (B) it sometimes gives me idea about what you guys would like to see and any mistakes I might need to fix. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, or even just want to say 'hi,' PLEASE put it in a review (I respond to almost any question) or in an ask on tumblr (you can find me as 'Redsuitwriter'). I also put sneak peeks for my stories on tumblr, so you can find extra content there.
> 
> Seriously - I always grin when I check my notifications and find a review or a follow for a story.


	34. Angel's Kiss

_Pour equal amounts of white crème de cacao, sloe gin, brandy, and cream into a café glass without mixing. An after-dinner drink sweet enough to rot your teeth._

On the highest floor of the Schnee Dust Corporation's headquarters, straight out from the elevators, is a soundproofed meeting room. The walls of the room are a dust-infused, force-resistant glass, protecting whoever is inside as well as giving them the ability to polarize the panes. When privacy is needed, the walls and the windows that look down onto Nicholas Plaza take on a mirror-like sheen, letting the people inside see out, but adding one more layer of security against corporate espionage. With a history like the SDC's, there are only too many companies who would kill to get their hands on inside secrets.

Unfortunately, while the view truly is spectacular, it's generally frowned upon to stare out the window during meetings like a bored schoolgirl, absently daydreaming while stuffed suits drone on and on about corporate policy.

Which was why Ruby had her back to the windows, biting her cheek to keep from yawning, as she sat in a comfortable office chair and did her best not to fidget. It was a losing battle; the board meeting had already gone on for over an hour and showed no signs of slowing down. She was bored out of her mind, and only the threat of embarrassing Weiss kept her seated rather than pacing aimless around the room. At least no one expected her to actually _listen_. She was just there as _President_ Schnee's personal security, and after the last few months of her, Yang or Blake sitting in on these sorts of meetings, the rest of the board barely glanced in her direction when they walked in the room.

 _Still not sure if I like that or not_ , she thought, scanning her eyes over the hallway outside. Shoes clacked as someone's secretary walked purposefully down the hall, heading for one of the corner offices with a stack of papers under his arm. Seemed normal to her. She'd seen the man around, knew which executive he worked for. No threat there.

Glancing back at the board, she drummed her fingers once on the arm of her chair. On one hand, it was nice to not have to _really_ deal with these people. She wouldn't even know where to begin. Just one of their bespoke suits cost more lien than she made in a year as a huntress. Even with her hair pinned back into some form of professional cut, she wasn't anything compared to the perfectly coiffed men and women sitting around the dark oak table—which Ruby was seventy percent sure had been cut from an endangered old-growth tree out in Mistral.

 _There is_ no _way I belong anywhere near here,_ she admitted, catching herself before her leg could start bouncing. _And everyone knows it. Even Weiss._

Moving slow, Ruby turned her eyes back to the white-haired woman seated at the head of the table. Weiss's back was to her, looking regal in the simple, white, and somehow throne-like chair she'd ordered placed in the boardroom. Her father's old studded-leather seat was long gone, probably in storage somewhere. Which was a blessing, honestly. Ruby never would have been able to see Weiss' legs from behind her father's chair. Definitely wouldn't have been able to trail her eyes down the long, sloping curves as Weiss crossed one behind the other. She certainly wouldn't have been able to see one small foot in a very substantial heel gently tapping the air.

 _She hates this as much as I do._ Ruby bit the inside of her cheek again, stopping the smile before it could creep across her lips. _The second they're out of earshot, the first thing she's gonna do is sigh, and then ask me to remind her why she hasn't tried to fire all her senior executives._

This time, she couldn't completely hide her smile. Not that anyone seemed to notice – they were all paying too much attention to the quarterly earnings report to give two shits about the dark-suited bodyguard in the back of the room. _As far as they're concerned, I'm just another part of the furniture. Like the table, or the sideboard, or—_

Even with the presentation going on, Ruby nearly leapt out of her seat at the nearly inaudible vibration against her leg. Heart hammering in her chest, she looked around the room. No one seemed to have noticed ... thankfully. _Guess invisibility has its perks._

Slipping her scroll out of her pocket, she flicked it open, wondering if it was the update from Weiss' car service.

A name she didn't recognize flashed back at her instead. On its own, that wasn't surprising. She got a lot of messages these days. SDC security, Weiss' personal assistants, the car service, her office manager ... there seemed to be more and more names popping up in her inbox by the day. Then again, most of those weren't starred or labelled 'critical.' _So who the heck is Li Yue?_

Anywhere else, Ruby would have smacked herself. _Right_. Li Yue was Yang's cover name, and the one Weiss had used for her new scroll. Of _course_ she'd slipped the number into Ruby's scroll. Made sense – on the off chance anyone got their scrolls, or hacked them, or who-knows-what, they'd see a message chain between Ruby and one of Weiss' executives, not Ruby and her sister.

Moving her finger over the screen, she tapped the message. If Yang was writing to her, she and Blake must have just landed. Which meant she might final get the answer she needed...

[Li: New scroll, who dis?]

Ruby fought and failed to keep from rolling her eyes. _Ha ha_ , she typed. To be fair, she should have known Yang couldn't pass up the chance to pull _that_ joke.

[Li: :) Landed. On our way to the meeting. Line's secure. You needed something?]

[Ruby: Advice.]

[Li: Shoot.]

[Ruby: Soooooooo, when you're]

She stopped, fingers hovering over the keyboard. There had to be ... nope. There was _no_ good way to phrase this. No way to keep from humiliating herself the second she hit the send button. Sighing, she resigned herself to the embarrassment and hammered the delete key.

[Ruby: Um. It's personal advice.]

[Li: kay? Still here.]

[Ruby: Like personal. Per-son-al.]

[Li: Yeah, I get it. Spit it out, kid.]

 _Kid?_ That was ... _right_. She was talking to 'Yue'. Not 'Yang.' One of the Weiss' employees probably wouldn't call her 'sis.'

[Ruby: ... whadda you do when you ... when you wanna get ... someone in the mood?]

There was a long pause after that. To be honest, Ruby had kind of expected one. Setting her scroll against her leg, Ruby looked back up at the rest of the room. Just like before, no one was paying her any attention.

A few minutes later, her scroll twitched.

[Li: Find a first edition printing.]

[Ruby: Not what I meant.]

[Li: I know. I'm deflecting. With humor. I do that sometimes. You seriously want to talk to me about sexy times with ... Schnee?]

[Ruby: Look, I just ... she's really careful with me and I want her to relax. Right now, she's super careful. Like she's always worried she'll hurt me.]

[Li: Yeah, I'm pretty okay with everything you just said.]

[Ruby: You gonna help or not?]

Ruby could practically see Yang sighing as she leaned over her phone, one hand absently fluffing her hair.

[Li: Ruby, you know what I do. I tease when I want to get ... my girlfriend riled up, but what works for us won't do it for you two.]

[Ruby: Any suggestions? Please?]

[Li: ... fine. Sexy pictures.]

[Ruby: Come on. I need help here.]

[Li: I'm serious. Nuthin gross – last thing I want to think about. Cute outfits and stuff. Like 'Come home soon.' 'Skip your meeting.' 'Can't wait till we're alone.']

[Ruby: I'm at work. Like five feet from her.]

[Li: Even better. Take 'em ahead of time. Send 'em in a meeting and watch her try to keep a straight face.]

Glancing back up from her scroll, Ruby couldn't help staring at the back of Weiss' chair. What _would_ Weiss' reaction be to something like that? She couldn't think of a time ... no. That wasn't true. She _did_ had a distinct memory of a wide-eyed Weiss looking down at her in the dark, of desperate need shining in those light blue eyes before Weiss' lips latched onto her neck, fingers fumbling wildly at the buttons of her shirt ...

[Ruby: Anything else?] she typed, clenching her jaw to keep from blushing.

[Li: ... sexy underwear? I dunno. what's her thing?]

[Ruby: ?]

[Li: Like ... my girlfriend doesn't always admit it, but she's got a thing for my chest. You know that. And she's got a greeeeeat butt. So what's your favorite part of Weiss? PG, please. I'm out of brain bleach.]

Ruby bit her lip, and fought to keep from glancing over at Weiss again. Weiss didn't need the rest of the board catching her bodyguard staring at the company president like a present she couldn't wait to unwrap.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Weiss cross her legs again, one foot still tapping the air as if it would somehow hurry the meeting along. She had to admit, Weiss had _amazing_ legs. She didn't know if it was the dancing her father had made her do when she was younger, or if it was the fighting style she used, but Weiss had ... how had she heard Qrow put it once? Weiss had gams to die for. Add in the tights and hose and her habit of wearing combat skirts in the field and pencil skirts at the office ...

This time, she _was_ blushing as she looked down at her scroll.

[Ruby: ... legs, I guess? Plus, her face is so pretty and she has these high cheekbones]

[Ruby: Her jaw's nice too. And she likes dresses that show off her collarbones...]

[Li: Gross. Too mushy. So, what's she like about you?]

Fingers on the scroll, Ruby went completely still. That ... it wasn't like Weiss hadn't complimented her before. Said she looked pretty or beautiful. But ...

[Ruby: I ... I dunno.]

Ruby swore she could feel Yang rolling her eyes all the way from Vale.

[Li: Well, that's something to find out.]

Blinking, Ruby pressed the power button on her scroll and looked back up, scanning across the boardroom without really seeing anything. Folding her hands over her lap, she settled back in her chair, a frown creeping across her face.

Yang had a point. If there was one thing she'd learned in the last couple months, it was that any push in their relationship was gonna have to come from her. Even if it was just her trying to get Weiss to be more forward about everything.

 _Okay then,_ she thought, biting the corner of her lip and throwing a shopping list together in her mind. _One more question to ask then._

_What would Yang do?_

* * *

When Weiss had heard Ruby calling from the bedroom, she had still been in the middle of looking through the last of the day's reports. Applied Sciences was still over-budget and under-performing, and it took her almost a minute after walking into the room to wonder why Ruby wasn't saying whatever it was she needed.

For a split second as she looked up, Weiss could have sworn her heart stopped.

It was a lucky thing that their bedroom floor was covered in a thick carpet. She wasn't entirely sure her scroll would have survived tumbling from her numb fingers as she stared at the sight that awaited her on the bed.

Ruby knelt on the sheet in a blood-red negligee, a practically see-through scrap of lacy fabric that barely came down past her hips. It looked like she'd taken a page out of Yang's book – the nightdress showed off a good expanse of cleavage, coming together at her bust before splitting into two trailing lines of silk that clung to her sides, leaving a long slash of her stomach bare. It helped that the cups were designed to push her breasts up and together, putting her even more on display for Weiss' rapt gaze.

"Hi." Ruby said, her cheeks red. Her hands toyed absently with the bedsheets, her hips shifting slightly as Weiss' eyes swept over her.

For almost a minute, Weiss just stared, completely and entirely speechless. Finally, the neurons in her brain started firing again, leaving her shaken and realizing that she was gaping at the younger woman like some slack-jawed idiot. Shaking her head, Weiss reached down for her scroll, before setting it on the dresser and closing the door behind her.

* * *

Ruby watched as Weiss carefully laid the scroll down, taking a second to make sure it sat right before moving over to the door and closing it with a purposefulness that made Ruby gulp.

This was so much harder than she'd thought it would be: sitting still, fighting to keep from looking down or just diving out of sight beneath the covers. Especially when Weiss turned back to face her. Those pale blue eyes lingered on her chest, her legs, the bare skin of her stomach, before finally Weiss forced them back up to her face. Just the expression on her face made Ruby tighten her fingers in the sheets. There was a hunger there, some dark and primal need Ruby hadn't seen in months, not since their first night together.

It was thrilling and intimidating and nerve-wracking all at once.

"So," Weiss said, her voice perfectly clear and precise. " _This_ was the errand you needed to run."

Ruby couldn't help looking down. She hadn't been willing to wait after her chat with Yang, which had meant a quick shift in the guard schedules for headquarters, and a blanket ban on letting Ms. Schnee anywhere outside her very-well-secured office until Ruby was back. From what the security guys said, Ruby thought _maybe_ Weiss hadn't noticed—she'd been cooped up in her office all day anyway—but apparently it was too much to hope for.

Biting her lip, Ruby forced herself to meet Weiss' eyes, then nodded her head towards the mattress. "Join me? Please?"

Weiss looked from her to the rumpled sheets, then deliberately reached up and slid her jacket from her shoulders. Folding it over a nearby chair, she smoothed the narrow lines of her skirt, then moved to sit beside Ruby. She perched on the edge, the tension in her muscles clear even beneath the sharp-pressed lines of her shirt. She looked on-edge. Rigid. Almost like it was taking every ounce of self-control to keep herself from moving.

 _Thank you, Yang,_ Ruby thought, smiling nervously at the white-haired woman before her. _I owe you big time for suggesting this._

Moving slow, Ruby reached out and laid a hand on Weiss' shoulder. She _was_ right. Ruby could feel the muscles bunching up beneath her palm, see the stiff lines of Weiss' shoulders and the ramrod plane of her spine. Pulling gently, Ruby tugged Weiss around until she was facing her fully, then sat back so she could look her girlfriend in the eye.

"Weiss, when we've been together, I've felt ... loved. A-and that's a really good feeling, and I love having that with you. A lot." Ruby reached out and took Weiss' hands in hers, thumbs running over the back of her fingers. "You're gentle and you're sweet, and I really, _really_ love this."

"But?" Weiss asked, her jaw clenched, smart enough to hear it coming.

"It's ... I don't know. Sometimes ... especially when we're like this, I feel like this _thing_ you're taking care of. Like a cup you're afraid you're gonna break. Not like someone you 'want'." Ruby smiled ruefully. "Not like I did that first time. I know you panicked about the whole thing afterwards, and me being nervous about the whole thing didn't help. But during ... you were really passionate, like you ... I dunno. Like you were drowning and kissing me was the only way you could breathe. And I liked feeling that. Like I was the only thing in the world to you."

Ruby swallowed and looked down at their hands. "That first time we slept together, I felt _loved_. Really loved. Like you were desperate to be with me, to make me happy. But since then, when we're together, it's like I'm being ... handled. I," Ruby felt her cheeks go red. No matter how many times she'd practiced this in her head, this was always the part she couldn't get right. "I wanna be made love to, Weiss. Not feel like I'm a paper flower you'll crush if you squeeze too hard."

Before Weiss could stop her, Ruby moved up onto her knees, hands moving up to twine behind Weiss' neck as she straddled the white-haired huntress' lap. "I miss that. A lot. I know you're holding yourself back, and I don't want you to." She leaned in, pressing herself against Weiss' chest as she kissed her cheek. "I want to feel 'wanted' again."

"Ruby—" Weiss said, ending in a sigh as the younger woman pushed even more firmly against her chest.

"Please," Ruby said, staring straight into Weiss' eyes. Her gaze never wavered, despite the heat rushing up into her face. Her eyes stayed on Weiss, steady and waiting, begging for something the other woman hadn't given her since that night on the sisters' couch. " _Please,_ Weiss. I wanna be kissed even when I'm _not_ the one who asks for it. I _want_ to be surprised ... a-and held, and I-I want it to be you holding me, and-"

She was still trying to think of something else for Weiss to do when two very familiar lips pressed up against her own. In an instant, all the tension in her body broke, and she crashed into the white-haired woman beneath her, toppling them both backwards onto the bed. She barely even noticed when somehow she ended up beneath her, Weiss' body pressing her down with a weight that was managed to be comforting and thrilling all at the same time.

"Like that?" Weiss murmured softly against her cheek.

It took Ruby a long while to pull her mind back together, at least enough to realize Weiss was actually waiting for an answer. That more kisses like that one weren't coming until she did.

" _Just_ like that."

Weiss nodded, her breath as shaky as Ruby's. "Alright. On one condition."

"Anything," Ruby said breathlessly, desire tinting every syllable.

She let out a short gasp as two warm hands slid effortlessly beneath her nightdress to grip her sides, holding her close as Weiss pressed a quick, heated kiss against her lips.

"I don't want ... if I do anything you don't like," Weiss said, still pressed against her. " _Anything._ "

"You won't."

"I mean it, Ruby." The flush faded from Weiss' face as she pulled back, far enough that Ruby could see her clearly. "Promise me. No pretending something's fine just to save my feelings."

Reaching up, Ruby wrapped her arms behind Weiss' neck again, hard muscles grown from years of hunting tensing as she pulled herself up until their noses brushed.

"I promise."

They kissed again, fire shooting down Ruby's veins to pool at the base of her stomach. Bound together, they fell back onto the bed, Weiss' fingers twining with hers before pinning her hands to the mattress.

"Now," Weiss said, lips pressed against the side of her neck. "How do I get this off you?"

Ruby let out a breathless laugh. The gossamer-thin fabric was the only thing keeping her from Weiss, and suddenly she couldn't care less how much the damn thing had cost. "Just tear it."

"Oh, no." Weiss breathed, fingers finally finding the tie. "You look _much_ too good in this to ruin it."

A few short tugs and the strings holding it closed came undone. With a flick of the wrist, Weiss sent the red lace flying across the room, landing somewhere out of sight as wanting fingers returned to caress Ruby's sides. She shivered as Weiss' hands climbed higher and higher, fingers finding her breasts before teasing her nipples until they ached.

"W-wait," Ruby whispered, trying not to shake as one of Weiss' hands slid back down to stroke the inside of her thigh. "What's your favorite part of me?"

"What?"

"I was talking to ... it doesn't matter." Ruby bit her bottom lip as Weiss kissed her neck again "Just. Legs."

"What legs?"

"You. _Yours._ " Ruby caught Weiss' hand before it could distract her further. "They're really, really ... elegant. And you always wear skirts so they look really nice, and that gown you have with the slit up the side's still my fav-"

"I know." One hand cupped Ruby's chest, holding it still until Weiss' roaming mouth could latch onto the aching peak. Anything else Ruby would have said dissolved into frustrated moans. "Why do you think most of my evening dresses are like that?"

"S-so?" Ruby asked again, not trusting her voice so long as Weiss had her pinned.

"Just one thing?" Weiss kissed her chest one last time, and then brought her hand up to trace the line of Ruby's lips with a finger. "These. The way blood rushes to them after we kiss."

"You like red."

"It is a good color for you. Always has been." Weiss paused, hands abandoning their relentless assault on her senses. Slowly, she reached up and nudged red-black hair out of Ruby's face, stroking the side of her cheek as it came away. "I like your eyes, and how your hair is messy no matter what you or I do with it."

"You like that?"

"I wear my ponytails to one side, Ruby." A touch of sarcasm slipped into her voice as Weiss leaned in, this time leaving a very visible mark at the crook of Ruby's neck. "Angled necklines, slit skirts, off-the-shoulder dresses. You never thought that, maybe, I had a thing for that?"

Nervous laughter bubbled up in her chest as a smile broke across Ruby's face. "Yang always said you were a secret rebel. I didn't really believe her."

"Focus, Ruby." Without warning, Weiss shifted her weight back on the bed, and before Ruby knew what was happening, Weiss lifted her hips up and off the bed. Heat rushed to her face as long fingers pulling until the last bit of Ruby's lingerie slid up her thighs to tangle around her ankles. It certainly didn't help that she was naked, and Weiss was still nearly fully dressed. She was helpless, off-balance and completely exposed as Weiss settled in before her, hands holding onto her hips as that perfect mouth found the burning heat between Ruby's legs.

"The only name I want to hear you say right now, is _mine_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Sorry for the very long wait for a new chapter.


	35. Vieux Carré

_Throw equal parts rye, cognac, and vermouth in a mixing glass, followed by a bit of Benedictine and a few dashes of bitters. Fill with ice, then stir and strain. A rich and decadent little drink._

Weiss got her wish several times over. Almost instantly, a choked cry tore its way from Ruby's throat, a breathless call of Weiss' name broken by a desperate moan. With Ruby's hips propped up against Weiss' thighs and her legs bent back over her head, she felt helpless, controlled, and as soon as Weiss began kissing the insides of her thighs, impossibly aroused. Then Weiss took her, tongue tracing the sides of her slit, flicking up and down, back and forth, before dipping inside her and coming up to swirl teasingly around her clit. Legs trembling from both the position and the wonderful torture Weiss was subjecting her to, Ruby let her eyes fall shut, teeth clamping down on her lips to try and hold back her voice. For a moment, Ruby was content to lay back, eyes pinched shut, whimpers spilling from her throat as Weiss steadily and forcefully worked her over.

Until she felt a gentle, if insistent, bite on the inside of her thigh.

Ruby's eyes flew open to find Weiss mock-glaring down at her, mouth coming away from her leg as she returned to her girlfriend's dripping core.

"Don't you dare look away," she said, her voice a low growl that sent shivers up Ruby's spine. "And I told you before. Don't fight it. I love hearing you moan."

Face now a brilliant beet-red, Ruby tried her best. Weiss kept her eyes on her the entire time, narrow pools of ice watching her for every little sound, every reaction as the older woman steadily and methodically ate her out. Soon the air filled with whimpers and mewling cries of Weiss' name, brought unbidden to her lips as Weiss wrapped her lips tight around her clit.

A minute more, and she was gone, the attempt to keep her eyes on Weiss long forgotten as her body shook, hands twisting and tearing at the sheets as she sought some kind of anchor. She needed it—Weiss refused to let up while Ruby was writhing before her, drawing out her climax as long as she could, until Ruby had to beg her to stop.

The moment Ruby raised her voice, Weiss pulled away, fast enough that it seemed she had been waiting just for that. Slowly, she lowered Ruby back down onto the bed. The mattress was soft and springy beneath her heaving sides, her panting broken only by the sense of fingers twining themselves with hers.

When the feeling returned to her limbs, Ruby reached up, found Weiss smiling down at her, and pulled her into a kiss.

"Thank you," she said, unable to think of anything else, despite knowing how silly it sounded. There wasn't anything else to say, anything that covered how she felt at Weiss giving her exactly what she needed.

Weiss simply nodded, understanding in her eyes, before stepping back and slowly reaching up to undo the top button of her shirt.

What followed was one of the sexiest things she had ever seen. There was no strip-tease from Weiss, no tauntingly slow removal of clothes to show off curves or the underwear beneath. Weiss was methodical and precise, business-like as she removed her shirt and vest before getting to work on her trousers. It was the eyes locked on hers, bright pools staring down at her with the look of a wildcat about to pounce. This wasn't to arouse or titillate—Weiss was simply getting ready.

Ruby didn't think she'd have the patience for anything else.

Lost in her thoughts and the sight of a naked Weiss looming over her, Ruby didn't noticed the hands reaching for her hips. A yelp slipped from her lips as Weiss flipped her over on the bed, with the ease of someone who'd spent the last few months doing physical therapy any waking moment she could cram it in. Even in that gesture, Ruby could feel a little of the weakness in the grip and pull of Weiss' bad arm, but her dominant left was stronger than it had ever been. She was intensely glad Weiss couldn't see her face as the other woman helped her onto her hands and knees, knowing that sure, strong grip was doing far more to get her going again than even the feeling of Weiss settling herself onto Ruby's back.

She hummed as one hand reached up to knead at the soft flesh of her chest, rolling her nipple between practiced fingers as the other hand slid teasingly down to the cleft between her legs. Gods, Weiss knew just how to-

A cry tore from her throat as Weiss pressed something small and smooth against her clit, sending a wave of vibrations through the sensitive nerves and rippling through every muscle of her form. The humming was strong and steady, and with Weiss' hand still kneading her chest, she could feel her knees already going weak.

"When d-did you...?" she managed, cut off by a choked cry as Weiss started circling her clit.

"You're not the only one who has been thinking about this. About us." Weiss said in her ear, soft and low. "About wanting to make you happy. I'm only sorry I kept you waiting."

Ruby tried to speak, tried to say something that could express the multitude of emotions running through her head as Weiss changed directions and her arms buckled beneath her. "I love you," she gasped finally, as soon as she could find the breath.

"I love you too, Ruby." For a moment, her voice was pure and gentle, absent any of the edge that had slipped in while she was giving Ruby exactly what she'd wished. Then the vibe pressed harder against her, and any response was lost in the feeling of Weiss' lips kissing the back of her neck.

"Now be good, and tell me when you're going to cum."

* * *

It was the smell of eggs and toast that woke her, accompanied by little notes of cheese and what her groggy mind identified as two or three different kinds of fruit. Forcing her eyes to open, Ruby rubbed away the sleep and blinked up at the towering figure above her. Weiss stood by the bed, tray in hand and a shockingly genuine smile on her face.

"Good morning."

The tray had to be set aside so Ruby could hug her girlfriend. It was the only response she could think of to a wake-up call like this after a night like  _that._  Then Weiss joined her on top of the covers, the tray was settled over Ruby's knees, and the two women dove into their breakfast.

It was perfect. Everything was the true-to-recipe, timed-down-to-the-second way that Weiss approached cooking, ever since she'd graduated. The toast was just right, the eggs weren't too thick or too runny, and as much as Ruby liked the home-style slapdash way Yang could throw a breakfast together, this was a nice change. Especially coming from Weiss.

Still, something at the back of Ruby's mind needled her. It wasn't anything new, just something that had stuck there in the middle of their conversation the night before. Set aside during Weiss' very well-motivated attempts to make her happy, and forgotten by the time Weiss had her on her knees. But now, hours later, with their passions spent and the remnants of toast and jam on her tongue, it was back.

"Can I ask you something?" Ruby asked mid-bite, then set her fork down.

Weiss paused in the middle of her own breakfast. Whether it was the tone of Ruby's voice, or the way she'd actually stopped eating, she seemed to realize this wasn't normal breakfast conversation. Setting her own utensils down, she patted her mouth with the napkin, then turned to face her girlfriend.

"What you said, last night," Ruby started, then paused. She needed to say this right. The last thing she wanted was to hurt Weiss after the night before. "You being scared of hurting me or doing anything I didn't want ... that wasn't the only problem, was it?"

Ruby watched as Weiss blinked and began to frown, eyebrows coming together in a way Ruby had seen a hundred times before—the way they always did when Weiss put up a walls around herself.

"I'm sorry. You were perfect, and this is awesome, but-" Ruby rambled, trying to say what she could before Weiss pulled away. "Yang and I told you about Mom and Dad and Raven. About what happened. Raven leaving, how Mom helped Dad raise Yang, them falling for each other. Well, I think Mom and Dad worked because they were better partners than Raven was. They worked together, relied on each other."

"I barely remember her, but the way Yang talks about Mom ... she and dad were a team. They talked about whatever was bothering them, and when they needed it, they were always there for each other to lean on." Biting her lip, she turned to look over at Weiss. "I want that. I want to  _be_  that, for you. You don't have to talk about anything, right now, but I just ... I want you to know I'm here." She trailed off, running out of things to say.

No, that wasn't true. There  _was_  more. Like how alone she felt whenever Weiss pulled inside herself. How obvious it was sometimes when Weiss was hurting, and how frustrating and horrible it was to know she couldn't do anything about it. How much she wished she could help, could  _do_ something, but still didn't even know what the problem really was.

 _I need her to let me in. If we're really going to be something, if this is gonna last, I need her to let me in._ Trying not to show it, trying not to guilt her into anything, she looked back at Weiss, keeping her eyes locked on the other woman's, hoping she could tell how much Ruby wanted to help. Wanted her trust.

_Please._

For a long moment, Weiss just looked back at her. "It is ... complicated."

A sad, wry smile broke over Ruby's lips. "I wouldn't be dating you if I had a problem with 'complicated'."

Weiss just stared for a second, taken aback, before a smile of her own spread over her mouth. "Fair enough." Shaking her head, Weiss looked down at her hands, smoothing the bedspread beneath her.

"I hardly remember much from when I was young, so most of what I have to go on is guesswork. But you know my parents' relationship was not ... good."

Ruby nodded. As far as she could tell, 'not good' was a massive understatement.

"I don't remember when my mother started drinking. It is the same as every other childhood memory. Blurry. Uncertain." She sighed, a frustrated look in her eyes. "Winter refuses to talk about it, but ... Father was not  _pleased_  when she was born. He was even less happy when my mother had me."

"He didn't want kids?"

Weiss shook her head. "He was set on a  _son_. Probably why they stopped having children after Whitley. Later, he hated that Winter defied him, that she gave up her inheritance to join the military, but I think he saw the silver lining—she was out of the way. Not being able to control either of us infuriated him, but that lack of control gave him the excuse he needed. He wanted Whitley as his legacy. No matter what either of us did, to him Winter and I were always our mother's daughters."

"And he failed." Ruby said, quietly. "You're the one who got the company, not your brother."

"Not for lack of trying. No matter what my father announced, the rumors he spread, he needed meto  _give_  up my birthright. Sign it away, same as Winter, in front of notaries, and witnesses, and the board." A small, vindictive smile slipped across her lips. "I followed Winter to Mistral before he had the chance to force me."

"I'm sorry."

"That is ... not the point." Weiss shook her head, then looked back up into wide, worried eyes. "Ruby, I desperately do not want to turn into my father. After we slept together, when I thought I'd taken advantage of you–"

"You didn't," Ruby cut her off, her voice firm.

" _When_  I thought I had. It felt like something he would have done. Caring only about what he wanted.  _Using_  others, trampling over them to make sure things turned out his way." She swallowed, and closed her eyes, hands clenched in white-knuckled fists. "That scared me more than anything."

"You aren't your dad, Weiss." Ruby said, trying to keep any quiver out of her voice. "You're not your mom, too. I'm not mine. I love her, and I still miss her, but I remember how angry Yang was when she died. I know how much it hurt Dad. And me. It wasn't her fault and I never blamed her, but I don't want to be the kind of person who vanishes and leaves a hole in someone's life. I don't wanna hurt Yang like that. I really don't want to hurt you like that."

"You say that like you think I'd let you," Weiss said softly. Then Ruby saw the smile teasing the corner of Weiss' mouth, and the humor shining through the sadness in her eyes.

She laughed, ignoring the wetness she felt on her own face. "That's the deal then," she said and held out her hand. "We've both had a whole lot of examples of what we don't want to be. So now we get to get to be something new. And if anything happens, we'll handle it. Together. Like the best partners ever. Okay?"

"Alright." Weiss' hand was warm as it wrapped around her own. "Together."

* * *

The next few days were filled with prep work. If their ersatz dust train was going to work—if they were going to draw Adam out—they needed to be careful. They could afford no mistakes. No slip-ups. Word had to be let out, carefully, that the SDC would try to send a dust shipment. The right people had to have the information seem to fall into their laps. As much as she would have liked to track down the chain of informants leading back to the Fang, there wasn't time, and if Adam couldn't corroborate the story, he might not show.

So Yang, Blake, Nora, Ren, and a few locals—the ones Weiss insisted they could trust—got to work slowly spreading the rumor. Official memos were sent. Meetings were had. Nora spoke just a hair too loudly in a bar after pretending to have one drink too many, while the foreman started arranging for the actual train to arrive.

Within the week, everything was in place. It was a wet, rainy night in Vale as the two pairs slipped off to their own hideouts, to rest and gather their gear for the morning's operation.

The knowledge of what awaited them settled over Yang and Blake like an over-stuffed quilt, heavy and smothering as the Faunus unlocked the door to their room in a semi-reputable motel on the edge of Vale. The place was a little run-down, but at least it was clean (Blake had made sure of that) and far enough away from the city to give them some sense of safety.

Even Yang's famous cheer couldn't quite survive the tension as the two got ready for bed. She kept double-and-triple checking her gauntlets, testing her arm to make sure it was as ready as the rest of their gear. Blake was guilty of cleaning her Shroud a few too many times, nerves and a mounting sense of paranoia making her want to check the chamber just one more time.

Finally, the two fell into bed, more from knowing they needed sleep than actually feeling tired. It took a long time, long moments spent staring at the ceilings or walls, but eventually, the air filled with the sound of Yang's slow, steady breathing. Comforted by the sound of her girlfriend beside her, Blake managed to close her eyes, and a few minutes later, drifted into sleep.

When Blake opened her eyes, all she saw was fire. Everything burned, sending smoke spiraling up into the rafters of the high-ceilinged hall around her. Screams filled her ears, enraged and frightened humans and Faunus answered by the howls of hungry Grimm. The night air resounded as the monsters snarled, spreading across Beacon like a tide, crashing furiously into the students trying desperately to hold them back.

Without warning, a sharp pain lanced through her side. She cried out, and looked down to find a familiar crimson blade extending from her side. Blood spilled as Adam ripped his sword free of her, mocking her weakness as she lay there, helpless to stop him.

Then the dread hit her. She knew what was coming, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't move. Couldn't run, couldn't even raise herself off the ground. Every word out of Adam's mouth was another digit ticking down on a clock she couldn't see. A timer running down the seconds until the worst happened.

And then it did. Yang arrived, eyes red with rage as she saw her partner lying bloody on the ground. Blake tried to speak, tried to make her leave, to save herself, but nothing came out. Her throat was too tight to speak, seized with grief and fear as she watched Yang leap into the air.

She couldn't look away. She wished she could, wished she didn't have to relive the moment when Yang's loyalty to her partner ruined her life. Adam's blade swung, and an unconscious Yang crumpled to the ground, her aura spent, her severed arm lying several feet away.

She hated this. Hated seeing this, again and again, knowing what would happen and knowing there was nothing she could do to change it. But at least the worst was over. Now she would grab Yang and they would make their escape. At least this time she knew Yang would forgive her, that Yang wouldn't blame her for being the reason why Adam targeted her in the first place.

Only this time, Blake wasn't fast enough. Horror slowly set in as she realized she couldn't make it to Yang in time. She tried, clawing at the floor as she pulled herself along, desperately trying to make it to the blonde she knew meant more to her than anything. She had to make it to her, had to try, had to save her...

She had a perfect view as Adam brought his blade down and sliced clean through Yang's neck.

* * *

Blake woke drenched in sweat. A scream threatened to tear itself from her throat, and only the sight of Yang—safe, sound, and asleep beside her—kept her quiet. Chest heaving, she tightened her hands on the sheets and forced herself to breathe.

 _She's fine._ Blake told herself, glancing over at the sleeping blonde.  _She survived._   _I survived. It's just a dream, brought on by nerves and the fact that Adam's back. That we might be fighting him today. That's all it is. Just a nightmare._

Slowly, she got her pulse under control. When her fingers stopped shaking, she reached over, and tucked some of the long golden locks to rest back behind Yang's ear. The warmth coming off of Yang helped banish some of the lingering shakes, helped convince that still-panicking part of her mind that it really was just her mind dredging up old memories.  _See?_ Blake thought to herself, running her hand down Yang's hair.  _She's fine._

_But she wasn't._

An icy hand wrapped itself around her insides as Yang mumbled something in her sleep, shifting in her sleep as she pulled her pillow closer. That was the truth, wasn't it? Yang hadn't been fine. She'd nearly died, ended up losing an arm because Blake hadn't been strong enough, sure enough, to stop her former mentor. Yang was maimed, all because  _she_  hadn't taken responsibility for the Fang. Because she hadn't stopped them.

Just like now.

Shaking her head, Blake pulled away from the blonde beside her. No more sleep. Not tonight. Especially not if all that waited for her was flashbacks of the worst moment of her life. Instead, she glanced at the clock and grimaced—it was far too early. In total, she'd ended up with three, maybe four hours of sleep.

Gritting her teeth, Blake slowly eased herself out of motel bed, grateful that Yang was splayed face-down across her side of the mattress, rather than draped over her. If the blonde had been holding her when she finally closed her eyes, Blake doubted she would have been able to slip out, short of using her semblance to escape.

It almost seemed like fate.

Quiet as a cat, Blake slipped from the bedroom, moving out into the thin excuse for a living room that the place had provided them. Still silent, she quickly changed into her cover identity's clothes and started packing her combat gear, those last few moments of her dream playing over and over in her mind. Adam taking Yang's arm again and again. Blake unable to get to her in time. His blade cutting deep into Yang's neck ...

Her hands were trembling as she unzipped her bag.

Barely even breathing, she set it aside and slipped back into the bedroom. Yang was still there, just as she'd left her. Safe. Asleep. Frowning, she reached over and turned off the alarm. It was the only thing that made sense. No reason for Yang to wake up now. She deserved a few extra minutes of sleep while Blake busied herself with getting the gear together. She'd wake her up herself before they needed to leave.

If Blake noticed that the only equipment that ended up getting packed was hers, she ignored it.

For a little while, she busied herself with thoughts of the coming mission, running over plans and strategies while she packed her gear. There were any number of strike points the Fang might hit. She knew the ideal spot along the train's route, the perfect spot for an ambush, but they might not pick it, just in case the train was waiting for an attack. She'd run enough of these missions herself to know Adam's playbook by now. They'd pick the second-best one, or the third, try to catch them unawares.

Before she knew it, her combat clothes and weapons were all packed away, secure within the little black duffel she had brought with her from Atlas. Moving to sit on the couch, she glanced at her scroll. That had to have killed a good chunk of time...

It had been seven minutes.

Cursing under her breath, she turned off her scroll and stared about the darkened room. Without something to  _do_ , without a task, the memories came rushing back—Gods, she could still smell Yang's blood, or at least thought she could. Adam's laughter still echoed in her ears, the threat that he would take away everything she loved to satisfy his twisted need for vengeance. Starting with Yang...

Resisting the urge to snarl, she sank her fingers into the arm of the sofa.  _I hate this,_ she thought, cursing her own mind for bringing up those memories before a fight. Especially this fight.  _I hate putting her in harm's way. I hate needing her to help with something she shouldn't have to deal with. Something_ I _should have taken care of a long time ago._

She wished she could find someone else.  _Anyone_  else to fight with her, to help her take down Adam and his cronies one last time. Coco, or Yatsu. Fox, Nora, Ren, anyone. Hell, she'd find Cardin and bring him with her if it meant Yang would stay behind. If she would just stay safe. Literally anyone other than Yang. Someone ...

Someone whose death wouldn't break her.

Her feet carried her to the door before she knew what she was doing. By the time she realized, her bag was slung over her shoulder, her hand on the knob, before she stopped. This was it. If she opened the door, if she stepped outside, if she just  _left_  ...

It was the best way. Maybe the only way. Yang ...

It was so simple. All she had to do was leave, and Yang would be safe. She'd be safe from Adam, safe from the Fang, safe from whoever was working with him. It would buy her a few hours. By that time, the train would have left, and Yang ... Yang would be safe.

Safe from  _her._

 _That's the real problem, isn't it?_ Blake thought, her spine ramrod-straight as her fingers tightened around the doorknob.  _She was in danger because of me. She_ is  _in danger because of me. And I'll never forgive myself if she gets hurt after_ I _put her in harm's way._

And she would never forgive her.

Snarling under her breath, Blake hung her head, slumping until it thumped against the metal door of their hideout. If she left, Yang might never speak to her again. No. She  _would_  never speak to her again. And she'd be right not to. Blake knew how much being abandoned by her mother had hurt her. How Summer's death had made everything worse. How she ... how abandoning Yang after Beacon had broken her as much as losing her arm had.

Worse, if she got hurt, if the worst happened, if she didn't come back, Yang would blame herself, wouldn't she? For not stopping her? For not knowing she would leave and try to keep her safe?

She already knew the answer.  _Of course she would._

Blake forgot how long she stood there, head pressed against the door, her hand on the knob. They couldn't run; Adam's thugs had already tracked them down more than once. If they just vanished, left him and his problems for someone else to solve, he'd find her eventually. They weren't just his problems, either.  _She_  was responsible for helping him. For enabling him as long as she had. The damage he wreaked, the people he hurt—that was her fault, too. If she brought Yang, she didn't want to think what might happen.

 _There's no good option here,_ Blake closed her eyes and let her head thump again against the door.  _If Yang comes, she'll be in danger. I'll be putting her in harm's way and she's already suffered far too much because of me. If something goes wrong, if something happens ... she's already given up her arm to keep me safe. But if I don't bring her, if I leave her behind ..._

_I'll be hurting her just as much._

That was it, she supposed. No way around it. No way through it. Just the simple fact—the person most likely to hurt the woman she cared about most, was  _her_. Whether it was Adam, his thugs, or if it was just the impact of Yang being abandoned one more time by someone she trusted, someone she loved, someone she'd given herself to ... it would still be her fault.

She couldn't ask her to stay behind. Yang would never let her go off on her own, not for something like this. Even with Ren and Nora there, she wouldn't let Blake out of her sight until this was all over.

Maybe that was it. Maybe, if she spoke to the others, they could figure out a way to keep her safe. No one  _had_  to face Adam alone. If they fought him as a team, as three full-grown huntresses and a huntsman, maybe even he wouldn't stand a chance. And if they knew he'd target Yang, that he'd go after the blonde just to twist that knife a little deeper, maybe the two of them could be ready.

Blake wracked her brain, trying to find another option, something that didn't put Yang in danger, and found nothing. There was no solution that fixed everything, but with Ren and Nora ... at least it was something. Something that wouldn't break her heart.

Glancing down, Blake checked the time on her scroll, and gave a short mirthless laugh. She'd been there over an hour. It was almost time for their alarm to go off, when it would have gone off.

With a sigh, she shoved the scroll back into her pocket. She could be the one to wake Yang up at least. Give her something good before she dragged her into hell alongside her. Shaking her head, she let her bag slide off her shoulder to the ground, and turned heading for the door that led back to their bed. To Yang.

Then she looked up, and froze, that icy grip settled back around her heart as she looked up into the face of the blonde staring at her from the doorway.

"Yang ..."

The blonde just shook her head. Even in the dim light, Blake could see her perfectly. Yang hadn't changed, her hair still a glorious mess so soon out of bed. It was a sight she'd found she loved, now ruined by the crimson eyes looking back at her behind a stony, impassive expression.

"Give me a minute." Yang said, her voice hard and cold. "I'll grab my gear."

The bottom of Blake's stomach dropped and kept falling.  _Gods, of all the times for her to wake up early._ "Yang, I didn–"

Before she had a chance to speak, Yang turned and shut the bedroom door in her face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks. Sorry for the wait till after RTX. As normal, I've got a bit of a backlog of reviews and comments, so I'll be trying to get to those in the next couple days.


	36. Bonecrusher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team sets their trap for Adam, and Yang finds an opponent that's been a long time coming.

_One half-ounce each of gin, vodka, triple sec, and rum, shaken together with a fourth ounce each of grenadine, lime juice, and two ounces of sweet and sour mix. Pour into a pint glass and float the champagne on top._

The two sat in silence as Yang drove out of downtown Vale, leaving the city in their rear view mirror. Ordinarily, that wouldn't be so odd—it was next to impossible to have a conversation on the back of Yang's bike, at least without throwing your voice out by the end of the ride. But with Yang's motorcycle too recognizable for undercover work, they found themselves saddled with a Schnee Dust corporate vehicle checked out under Blake's cover name.

Without the wind roaring in their ears, Blake had little to distract her from the stony silence, or the tension that roiled around Yang like storm clouds, crackling with electricity and ready to burst. All she had was the pitter-patter of the rain against the roof and the splash of the water beneath their tires, and even that wasn't enough to cover the silence that stretched between them.

They were already halfway to the train depot, and in all that time, Yang had not spoken a single word. Neither had Blake. She could barely bring herself to look at Yang, who kept her eyes glued to the road in front of her.

A hundred things flashed through Blake's mind as she looked out the window, forlorn as she watched the buildings pass by. A hundred apologies, a hundred explanations, a hundred different ways to say what the both of them already knew.

_There's no fixing this. There's no way she'll forgive me. Not now. Not after I tried to leave her behind. Not again._

_I should have known this would happen. Every time we get close, every time I start to think that maybe we actually have a shot, I hurt her. Even if she could forgive me this time, I don't deserve it._

Blake grit her teeth together until her jaw ached. That was the whole point, wasn't it? She wanted to run, to keep from hurting Yang. She chose to stay, to keep from hurting Yang. And no matter what she did, she just made everything worse.

Biting her lip, Blake glanced back across at the driver's seat, her insides cold as she looked at her partner. After all these years, she could read Yang as easily as one of her books—and what she saw made her want to beat her head against the dashboard. Tension coiled in Yang's shoulders, pushing them forward while the blonde gripped the wheel with white-knuckled hands. Her eyes, whether the blonde knew it or not, flickered every so often between red and violet, her semblance and her mother's heritage causing them to change by the second as she stared out at the rain-slick road.

Slowly, Blake took a breath, then another, and another. She had to say something. She  _had_  to. It needed to be  _her_  that started this. That apologized. That made Yang understand. That made it clear—she  _chose_  to stay. Maybe, just maybe, that would count for something. But each and every time she tried, the words died in her throat, each idea sounding more inane and idiotic than the last.

 _Of course they would,_ she thought, cursing herself as the rain clattered ever harder on the window.  _Whether I left or not, I still almost ran. After everything I've put her through, all that's happened, there's still a part of me that wishes I'd left her behind. That I knew she'd be safe. Away from all of this. Away from me._

 _There's just no way I can tell her that._ There was nothing she could do.

With one last breath, Blake steeled herself, and forced the first words out.

"Yang, I-"

"Don't."

Blake flinched in her seat as Yang cut her off, not even bothering to take her eyes off the road. But it wasn't the tone Blake had expected, not the hard rejection she knew she deserved. It wasn't harsh, or angry. Just sad ... and tired.

 _Somehow,_ Blake thought. _That makes it worse._

"Please talk to me," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the rain.

"Not ... not now," Yang said, painfully slowly, as if she needed every second to summon enough effort to get the words out. "Right now, I-" Halfway through, her voice broke, throat catching as she tried to speak.

Swallowing, Yang cleared her throat and tried again. "I need to focus. You and I ... we have a job to do. A job we're damn good at. If Weiss is ever really gonna be safe, if  _you're_  ever gonna be rid of Adam, we need to handle this. Now."

"On the plus side," the boxer's mouth twitched in a humorless smile. "If we're lucky, I'll get plenty of targets to punch. Think I need that, right about now."

"Yang-"

"After." Yang cut her off again, her voice raw. That was when Blake noticed—the tremble in Yang's chin, how she kept blinking again and again, the pulsing at the back of her jaw, the way it always did when ...

_When she's about to cry._

" _Please_ , Blake. We'll ... we'll talk about it after. When I can cool down and get this out of my system. When Adam's finished." She swallowed, and a hard look settled over her face. "For good."

Blake nodded slowly, then settled back against the passenger seat, fingers clenched tight over her knees. "I am so sorry." she said, barely more than a whisper, leaning her head forward so Yang wouldn't see the tears forming in her eyes.

It took Yang a long time to answer. When she did, the strain was gone, replaced by a sadness Blake had never heard from her.

"I know."

* * *

Foreman Braun was as good as his word. When the two of them pulled in, they found the dust train waiting for them, ready to go the moment their car pulled into the depot. Ren and Nora stood by one of the car doors, already aboard, the smaller Nora waving wildly to them as they approached.

Outside of their team and the few employees Braun had picked to operate the train, the rest of the building was completely deserted. This early in the morning, normal shifts had yet to arrive, and as far as Blake could tell, the security guards station stood empty. At least the sounds of the train cut through the silence—a nice change from the quiet of their car.

Without a word, Yang and Blake hopped aboard, Nora's shout of welcome drowned out by the train jerking into motion the moment the door closed behind them. With a shuddering lurch, the train began to pull itself down the tracks, then started to run, wheels spinning wildly as it raced out of the depot.

Nora's attempt at a hug left her off balance as the floor moved beneath her. She tumbled forward, nearly crashing into Yang before Ren's hand landed solidly on her shoulder.

"Boy, did I miss you guys!" Nora grinned, finding her footing and wrapping her arms around Yang first, then Blake. Her hugs were just as Blake remembered them from their days in school, warm, guileless, and much, much too tight.

"We were gone ten hours," Blake said softly, her ribs complaining while Ren shook his head.  _Was that really it? Ten hours since we stumbled home and fell into bed?_   _Ten hours since I could look Yang in the eyes?_

"I knoooow," Nora moaned, and squeezed her again. "But we're back together now! Adam's not gonna know what hit him."

"So," Ren said quietly, while Blake pulled the excited redhead off her. "What's the game plan?"

"We split up." Blake answered before anyone else could.  _I need them on Yang. Keeping her safe._ "You two are partners, and outside of Ren, I'm the quietest one here. You two go with Yang and work as the main guard. Draw their attention, and I'll take their flank. If Adam comes, you draw the others off and I'll—"

"Not happening," Yang snapped.

The pit in her stomach twisted and Blake looked up into violet eyes, gone dark with warning. It was a familiar sight, that look Yang got right before she decided to square off against something no sane person would take on. It was the same expression Yang always had before taking a hit meant for someone else, before catching the arm of an oversized mech or a grimm the height of a barn.

"Yang, it'll be better if"

"Ren, you're with Blake. Nora's on me." Her voice was hard, and brooked no argument. "We make two groups, one on either end. Catch them in a pincer and force them to the middle."

Blake took a breath, objections already on her tongue.  _I want you to be safe, I need to handle this on my own,_  but the words died in her throat, like so many others. Yang knew what she wanted. Knew better than anyone why Blake didn't want to put anyone else in harm's way. Why she wanted as many people as possible around Yang, keeping her safe.

Yang just wasn't going to put up with it.

Slowly, Blake closed her mouth. With Yang's personality, it was rare for them to have those extended conversations with just a look, knowing what the other person was about to say before they said it. Yang preferred the comfort of chatter, and Blake, for all she liked finding moments of peace and quiet, loved to listen. Taking comfort that Yang would at least have Nora at her back, she nodded her own unhappy agreement.

"Oh," Nora chirped from the side. "Do we get team names?"

Yang shrugged. "Sure. Call 'em team sneaky and team hit-hard-as-fuck."

Completely oblivious to the glare Yang levelled at Blake, Nora grinned and pounded the butt of her hammer into the ground, the car echoing with the resounding crack.

"Boo-yah."

* * *

An hour later, Blake found herself tucked in beneath a window in the second car, crouched in just the right way to keep her limbs from falling asleep as she waited. Vale was far behind them, hidden from sight by the winding mountain passes and the forests speckling the kingdom's lands.

"You think they're coming?" Ren asked, his voice breaking over Blake's earbud. Careful to stay out of sight, the huntsman peeked up over the edge of his own window at the other end of the car, his eyes scanning the ridge. "I don't see any movement from here."

Glancing up from her hiding spot, Blake glanced out at the passing countryside. Their train around them was chugging along through a deep valley carved between two rising hills, steep sides giving a neck-breaking ninety-degree slope for anyone brave enough to swoop down on them from the clifftops.

"Yes, just not here." With a sigh, she leaned back against the wall. Her training kept her still and silent, except for her leg. No matter how hard she tried, it kept bouncing, the nervous energy racing through her nerves trying to find some outlet.

"I know Adam," she said, clamping one hand on her knee. "He wouldn't go for the most obvious assault point. He'll take the second-most likely."

"Unless he knows you know," Nora's voice came over the comms, distorted by the sound of the train. "So he picked the  _most_  likely to throw us off the track.

"Nora..." Ren started, already too late to stop her.

"Ooh, or what if he does the third most likely? Or the four-"

"Coming up on the second bend," Yang growled in Blake's ear. The faunus woman couldn't help flinching—the normal stress and strain that slipped into Yang's voice before a fight was there, but the edge to it, the anger beneath ... she hated hearing that. It was even worse than normal, knowing that it was there because of her.

"It'll be here," she said, knowing it in her bones.

"You're sure?"

"I ... I  _knew_ him." A part of her shuddered at the thought. "I knew his strategies, his tactics, his methods. I knew when he'd jump, when he'd pause and reconsider, and when he'd charge ahead, no matter the danger." Blake swallowed and worked her mouth for a second, trying to keep her teeth from grinding. "It'll be here."

The comms went silent as all four of them stared out the windows, watching as the train left the valley and moved out onto the open plains, woods framing the track on both sides. Riding along the tracks, listening to the clacking of the train around them, felt exactly like it would have to visit one of the busy, packed shore markets of Menagerie and find the place completely deserted. Her eyes leapt to each darkened space between the trees, each space that attackers could hide inside, always expecting to see someone and finding nothing. No matter how hard she looked, there wasn't a single sign of life. Animals scattered at the sound of the train rushing past, and few people chose to make their home that far from the safety of Vale. If only—

The hair on the back of Blake's neck stood on end as the train chugged around a turn, the track curving around the base of a hill, the ground rising steadily on one side. It wasn't Forever Fall—the leaves of the surrounding trees were green not red—but for an instant, she saw the scene from the other side. Two figures, both dressed in back, sliding down the slope before leaping off to land on the train.

"Here," she said, not a doubt in her mind.

"You sure—"

"It'll be here." She was already moving, blade pulled from her shoulder as she went for the door. Sure enough, before she even made it to the door, she saw it. First one figure, then another, and another appeared at the top of the passing slope. One by one, with more following in their wake, they leapt forward, dirt flying up in their wake as they slid down towards the train, before leaping off, blades in hand, and landing with a thud on the roof.

Wrenching the door open, Blake crouched, then kicked off the platform between the cars. Twisting her body mid-air, she turned and landed on all fours, just in time to see the early jumpers look right in her direction. Off in the distance, she spotted some of the Fang drop down between their own cars, heading inside the train as the ones nearby turned and made for her.

"Ren—" she started to say as the closer Fang mooks rushed her.

"Already on it," came the calm, cool response as the door to the car below he crashed open, and the Mistralan huntsman darted inside.

After a few minutes, Blake began to realize something. That first parry of one of the white Fang blade set off the first inklings, but it wasn't until she disabled one of the rooftop bandits and sent her crashing down through the roof into the car below that she realized it.

She, and Yang, and the others had been through some of the worst things their world could throw at them. They faced ancient powers as old as Ozpin himself, faced down the darkness at the heart of the Grimm, taken on some of the toughest fighters humanity and the faunus could muster. They weren't invincible, the sniper's bullet Weiss had taken proved that, but compared to Cinder, to Salem, to dragon grimm and tauric monsters, the White Fang were ... nothing.

Even with their numbers, the masked thugs were no match for four fully-trained hunters. Together, Ren and Blake worked through their half of the train with ease, dancing from one attacker to the next, katana blade and gun-daggers effortlessly parrying aside Fang swords and guns. Yang and Nora put more effort into it, but from the explosions that came over the comms, Nora's whooping, and Yang's shouts of rage, Blake had the feeling that had more to do with their style than their opponent's skill.

After the tenth White Fang mook Blake took out, she had to admit it was almost ... sad. This caliber of criminal—the rank and file, the kinds of folks Adam gathered to him—they might have been a challenging fight for students still learning their craft, but now ... it was as one-sided as a beowolf fighting a deathstalker.

With both teams working towards the middle, it took them only a few minutes to fight their way through the train, with Blake sending the last of her opponents sailing backwards ... right into the path of Nora's backswing.

"Nice kick!" Nora grinned, bouncing forward with Magnhild perched on her shoulder. "Any sign of el Toro?"

"Not yet," Blake frowned and dropped down into the car below. She found herself standing mid-way between Yang and Ren, both of them surrounded by their own unconscious White Fang footsoldiers.

"That seem too easy to anyone else?" Yang asked, already loading another set of rounds into her gauntlets. No one answered, but from the looks on their faces, they didn't have to.

 _Was that it?_ Blake thought, staring down the car Yang had come through.  _Did he not even bother to come himself? Just send a group of underlings to handle it._ Maybe that was it. They'd gone out of their way to make the train a tempting target. But if it had looked too easy, if Adam hadn't bothered coming ...

"We need to check again," she snapped, turning on her heel. "If there's something we missed—"

Before she could finish that thought, the train lurched, shuddering before starting to pick up speed, gaining momentum as it racing down the track.

Blake swore and swore and swore again, her feet already pounding down the floor of the car as she raced back towards the engine, the rest of her friends hot on her heels. She'd missed him. Either he'd jumped late or been waiting further ahead, or ...it didn't matter. One way or the other, she'd  _missed_ him.

"We won't get another chance like this," she shouted over her shoulder as they ran from one car to the next. "If we don't get him now..."

"Blake!" came Yang's shout from behind her. Blake turned to look, and watched as a man in a White Fang mask stepped onto the platform at the bag of his car, and uncoupled the train.

"Son of a-"

Blake was already moving before the words were out of Yang's mouth. She threw everything into that burst of speed, her legs pumping as she raced down the length of the train cars and kicked off, blurring into shadow as she made the jump from one car to the next.

Ren was right behind her, using his aura for that last little push he needed to throw himself onto the fleeing train. Glancing back, Blake looked just in time to watch as Yang grabbed Nora's hand and half-blasted them off the now-distant platform.

 _No,_ Blake thought, as the two sailed through the air, then slowed, their momentum beginning to fail them. _She's not going to-_

Just then, Nora fired Magnhild, the force of the grenade launcher sending the both of them crashing into the rear of the train car, leaving Blake and Ren to hit the deck. The grenade itself impacted with the train car behind them, setting it alight in a great ball of red-orange flame.

Arms aching, Blake pushed herself up off the ground, and found herself looking up into Yang's crimson eyes.  _Thank the gods,_ Blake thought, fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword.  _If they'd missed, if Nora's timing had been a second off, Yang would have—_

"Come on!" Hefting Ren up onto his feet, Nora yanked the door open and rushed inside, the others hot on her heels.

And just as quickly skidded to a stop.

Standing in the center of the car, lit cigarette in hand, stood a man in a long brown coat and a White Fang mask. He had the lower mask that the rest of the new Fang members were wearing, the same sort of death mask Weiss' sniper had worn the night of the party. Only, his hung from its straps, the internal mechanism that clamped it to the wearer's face apparently disengaged. No scream came from this one. No shout of rage or attempt to psych himself up before rushing in for the attack. He just stood there, looking more bored than anything, half paying attention to the four hunters standing at one end of the car.

 _Of course,_ Blake snarled in her head as she hefted her blade.  _Adam always brings a lieutenant. Me, Ilia, his chainsaw killer ... and now this joker._

She was half settled into a combat stance when Yang caught her arm. Brow furrowed, she glanced over at Yang, worry shooting through her when she saw the look in Yang's eyes.

"Don't bother," she growled, her voice low. "I got this."

"No."

"Blake-

"No!" Blake's voice cracked as she turned fully to face Yang. "I am not leaving you alone. Not without backup."

"I can handle this moron." Yang cracked her knuckles, then looked meaningfully over at Ren and Nora. "You two don't leave her side, okay?"

"Will do, Yang." Blake didn't even have time to voice her objections before Nora had one arm around her, the shorter woman's considerable strength letting her heft Blake off the ground with ease. Together with Ren, she ran forward, ignoring Blake attempts to struggle free.

Ren had his blades at the ready, watching just in case the White Fang lieutenant bothered to take a swing at them. To her surprise, he didn't, his mask barely following them for a second before he turned back to Yang.

Then the door slammed shut, and they were gone.

* * *

"Drop the act," Yang snarled, fingers flexing as she shifted her left leg back, ready to move the second she saw an opening. "Everyone knows it's you, Vardon."

For a long moment, the White Fang soldier just stared at Yang. Then he reached up with one hand and removed the mask covering his features. Laughing green eyes looked back at her as Vardon let it fall from his fingers, clattering to the shaking floor.

"Cute," he smiled, dropping the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. "When did you guess?"

"Blake found the listening app you snuck into her scroll. So Weiss ran a check, put out a few feelers to see which board member had hired you."

"And found none of them had," he finished for her as his foot ground down on the lit end of his cig. Tendrils of smoke trailed up from around his boot, spiraling up beside him as his hands slid down to the weapons holstered to his thighs. "Not my best work, to be honest. Your kitty cat caught me off-guard. Had to come up with  _something_ , so-"

A speck of light flashed between them, detonating as Vardon whipped his katar up and out of its sheath. The air split with a roar as the round exploded, filling the air with dust and debris.

The cloud broke as Yang drove through it, not wasting a second. Vardon just barely dodged in time, forced to retreat as Yang shifted from blow to blow, gauntlets blurring in a flurry of blows. Golden alloy met burnished steel as Vardon blocked and bound her blows away, small motions that nudged her aside just in time to intercept the next attack. She stayed on the offensive, moving from one punch to another and forcing him to keep pace with her, follow her rhythm, until she found her chance—two simultaneous blows she forced him to block—and brought her head crashing down onto the bridge of his nose.

He staggered, and before he had a chance to find his footing, her leg curled up and in, then popped out with all the force a well-trained huntress could muster.

She hit. She did _._ She  _knew_  she did. She felt her foot meet his center mass, felt the give of his stomach and the resistance of his aura. And then her foot flew forward, slamming to the ground as the momentum carried her through a cloud of smoke that hadn't been there two seconds before.

Whirling, she only just saw the glint of metal in time to block as Vardon spun forward. He shredded the cloud as he lashed out at her again and again, a whirlwind of steel descending on her. Head down and guard up, Yang hunkered down and weathered the cuts, letting the worst of them scratch along her gauntlets, and taking the few she couldn't anticipate on her metal arm. She watched, and waited, and waited, and just as he came in for one more thrust, she struck. Springing to the side, she grabbed the handle mount for his gauntlet and pulled forward, yanking him off balance before poleaxing him with a side kick that caught him right below the ribs.

She smiled as his feet left the metal flooring of the train car, Yang's kick lifting him into the air before he crashed back into the wall. Then he hit, and Yang cursed as his body vanished in yet another cloud of that noxious, infuriating smog, followed by the clicking of boots as he stepped out of the smoke, seemingly unharmed.

"Come on," he said, that smug smile finally wiped from his face. "Aren't gonna let me do my villain monologue?"

Eyes turned blood-red, Yang faced him down, fingers twitching on their respective triggers, the smoke slowly dissipating throughout the room.

Cocking both her gauntlets at once, she cracked her neck and glowered at the traitor before her.

"Do I look like someone who gives a shit?"

* * *

"We have to go back," Blake growled, trying to pull herself free of Nora's arm. Finding purchase on the shorter woman's clothes, she heaved ... and got nowhere. Nora's muscles, built after years of swinging her oversized grenade-launcher hammer, were as hard as rocks, and her grip had about as much give.

"Can't do that, Blake," she said, and dragged her forward, pulling her away from the rear car. Away from Yang.

"Dammit, Nora. Let me  _go_!" Anger washed over her as she tried to break free. She needed to get back to Yang, needed to make sure she was alright. Adam be dammed, if Yang got hurt ...

Suddenly she was free, one of her shadows slowly vanishing within Nora's grip. Not missing a beat, she brought her blade and sheath to her hands, then turned to rush back down the car, back to where Yang had sent them on, and found herself nose-to-nose with Ren.

"Ren—"

"You need to let her do this," he said, calmly, his voice not wavering a bit as he looked back at her. "You're the one who needs to fight Adam. The one who knows how he thinks, remember?"

 _That's a low blow, using my words against me._ Cursing, Blake tried to step around him, only for Ren to move to block the door. "Get out of the way, Ren."

"No."

"For the love of god, Ren, move!" She shouted, her nerves singing as the panic took her. "I  _can't_  lose her. Last time, she ..." Blake's voice cracked.  _Last time she nearly died. Neo almost killed her. She—_

"I know," Ren said, cutting through her thoughts, his voice low and soft. "But have you considered that the reason she wants to do this on her own, is to prove to you that she can? She's every bit the huntress you are, Blake. You have to trust she can handle herself."

"That's not—"

"Isn't it?" He sighed, and reached for her, one hand bracing itself against her shoulder. "I know what it's like to lose yourself to that fear, Blake. I'm sure Yang does too. But I can't see her giving up being a huntress anytime soon. Just because you have a connection to these guys, it doesn't make them any different from the Mistralan bandits or Junior's thugs or some beowolf in the middle of the road."

Jaw open, Blake just stood there in the middle of the car, eyes pleading helplessly, needing to go back, to make sure Yang would be alright. A part of her knew Ren was right, knew he had a point, but—

"I can't risk her getting hurt because of me," she said, her shoulder shaking. "Ren, I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that she ... that something happened because I dragged her into this."

For a moment, he just held her gaze, bright eyes flickering back and forth between her own. Then he sighed. Letting go, he stepped past her, moving to join Nora at the front of the car.

"Alright, Blake. Any other time it'd be me and Nora staying behind to buy you guys the time you needed, but she needs this. Needs to know you have faith in her. And if Adam is as big a threat as you say he is, we're going to need you up front to take him on." He looked back at Nora, who nodded, her face absent any of its normal cheer. "But if you need to stay behind, I get it."

"It's your mission," Nora chimed in, hands tightening on Magnhild's haft. "We'll follow your lead."

"So," Ren asked, his eyes never leaving Blake's. "What're we going to do?"

* * *

Snarling, Yang ducked beneath an overhand slice, answering with an uppercut that whipped harmlessly through the air, a centimeter from Vardon's jaw.

Expletives flashing through her mind, she met the man blow-for-blow, dancing across slash marks and craters left from their battle in the train car floor. The empty racks were gone, half destroyed by one of Yang's shots, the other one slashed to ribbons from Vardon's katars.

With a curse, Yang parried yet another thrust and went for a blow to his chest, only for Vardon to slip away, dissipating in a cloud of smoke. Growling, she settled back into her stance and waited, both of them slowly circling the other, looking for an opportunity.

She hated this kind of opponent. Him specifically, but more than that, she hated fighting people like this. He never stood his ground, never fought for territory. Always moving, dancing around the car, every cut or thrust came in at an angle. She couldn't build up her semblance like this, couldn't pull in more than a fraction of energy from blows that always just glanced away.

Vardon's mouth twitched, and Yang brought her gauntlets up just in time to block the worst of them. A few impacted on her aura and crumpled, barely enough force behind them to do anything for her.

It didn't make any sense. He had to know her aura was strong enough to take a few shots like that without breaking a sweat. Which meant ...

She came out of her guard just in time to watch as Vardon grabbed a small cylinder off the back of his belt, the pin already pulled as he lobbed it through the air towards her.

 _Crap._ Yang's gauntlet was already up, her fingers tightening on the triggers as she brought the barrel in line with the grenade. She fired, the shotgun blast collided directly with the grenade's side, and it exploded halfway between the two of them.

The wave of force she'd been expecting never came. Shrapnel did, sparking off her aura as the air around them filled with a thick, greyish, cloying smoke. Rushing forward, she swung, trying to use the smoke to cover her attack, and her fist passed through empty air. Then something slammed into her back, and Yang pitched forward, the first blow catching her on the hip as something whipped into her feet and sent her crashing down to the floor.

She pushed herself up, feet whipping around in a whirlwind, trying to catch anyone standing nearby. Nothing connected. She couldn't see through the smoke, could barely breathe, and yanking her scarf up over her nose and mouth barely helped.

A blade cut down, slamming into the aura around her shoulder. She turned, activating her semblance, trying to grab Vardon before he slipped away ... and nothing.  _Dammit,_ she thought, whirling as she tried to hear footsteps, rustling,  _anything_  over the sound of the train.  _Where the hell—_

His blade struck again, and this time, it found its target. Her aura, already weaker around her replacement arm, faltered long enough for his blade to pass through. The edge cut through just above the elbow, sending sparks and shards of metal raining down onto the floor. In an instant, Yang felt the prosthetic go slack, turned into so much useless metal hanging off one shoulder. She swung wildly, lashing out at wherever her assailant might be.

All she caught was smoke.

Teeth clenched, Yang pulled her one remaining arm in, towards her chest, finding the best defensive stance she could while the wind roared in her ears. Her adrenaline had started to effect her, making her twitchy as she tried to breathe. It was harder to think, the fight-or-flight instinct making her heart pound inside her chest.

"Had enough yet, blondie?" Vardon's voice called from the smoke. She couldn't decide where—every time she thought she knew, it changed, echoing off the walls. "Cause I'm gettin' kinda bored."

"You know, I fought a woman like you once." Yang growled, coughing to clear the smoke from her lungs.  _Focus, dammit. There'll be time for a panic attack after you've knocked out all his teeth._

_Just ... just keep him talking._

Stepping to the side, she tried to remember which way was the train car wall. "Nudged aside everything I threw at her. You know what I learned?"

She could hear the smirk in Vardon's voice as he answered. "That you have an innate masochistic streak?"

Cold fury swept some of the panic from her veins as she staggered to the side, followed by a wave of relief as her left side bumped into something hard.  _Found it._

"Two things," she said, a smile breaking over her lips. "If I can't hit you, I just have to break everything around you."

Turning to brace her remaining arm, Yang fired four times in quick succession, sending a rain of shotgun blasts into the opposite wall of the train car.

What had been a high-pitched whistling of the wind through the holes of the car turned into a deafening roar. Air whipped through the train as two massive chunks of the walls flew away, leaving half of the section open to the air. Yang's hair whipped around her as the smoke cleared in less than a second, sucked away by the air rushing past, streaming out from the car in one long stream, and revealing the green-eyed man leaping towards her.

Yang ducked beneath his first slash and caught the second on her gauntlet, forcing him back as she fired at center mass. Without his miasma to hide inside, he actually had to dodge, and Yang could feel him faltering as she forced him back.

"Point taken," he snarled, eyes ablaze. "What was number two?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he went for another spinning attack, blades whipping down at her.

This time, she stood her ground, he smile only getting wider.

"Cheat."

Yang's foot whipped around and up as she turned, throwing the full momentum of her body into a kick toward his ribs. There was no chance of it hitting, the distance was all wrong ... and then an explosion sounded through the rushing wind.

Scraps of leather flew as Yang's boot-top ripped to shreds. Just above her boots, hidden by the folds, sat one part of a pair of greaves. Its design matched her gauntlets, painted the same chestnut brown of her boots, and as Vardon staggered back, rocked by the shot directly to his abdomen, she spun back, her other leg coming towards his head.

This shot sent him flying. Vardon's body cracked off the remaining wall, bouncing against the back door to the next car before slamming to the ground with a crunch. The air filled with a brief fizzle as his aura faltered, failed, and died.

"Got the idea from one of Cinder Fall's mooks," Yang said as she stalked down the train car, gauntlet trained on the gasping man struggling to push himself up off the ground. "After we took him down, I wasn't gonna let it go to waste."

She kicked out as one of Vardon's katars came up to target her, sending the shot wide. Following through, she let the momentum carry her, spinning around to bring her other foot squarely into Vardon's side.

The shot from her greaves gave her kick an extra boost of force—more than enough to send the fake detective crashing back into the door. He fell, landing on the ground in a heap, held up only by the door at his back.

Shakily, he fought to look up at Yang. Blood streamed from the side of his mouth when he'd bit himself in the fall, his breathing ragged—from a broken rib, if she had to guess.

"Just make it look good," he coughed, one side of his mouth twisting up that obnoxious, cocky smirk.

The last thing he saw was Yang's fist. Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks. As usual, I had some trouble getting part of the scene to work well enough for me to be okay posting it - so I'm sorry for how long it took.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review or comment if you can. Especially with this coming back, I'd love to hear what everyone thinks. Plus, depending on the day, it either feeds or combats my writer's neurosis. Also, if you have any questions, put it in a review or shoot me a PM (hell, you can shoot me an ask on tumblr too, my blog is RedSuitWriter) – if I wasn't clear about something, then I'd love to know so I can fix it in the text.
> 
> If you haven't already, I suggest you skip back to Ch3: Backdraft, and check out the art done by DGsilv3r for the scene between Yang and Blake.
> 
> Also, if you have a second, I'd ask you to go check out the _Summer Rose Court_ – it's a virtual novel for RWBY being worked on by a number of the fanfic and fanart makers in the RWBY community. There's a demo up already and a bunch of art references and sprites and little jokes from our writing sessions up on Tumblr (Just search for 'summer rose court' or 'SRC dev blog' or 'SRC hard at work' for us messing around). I'm having a blast working with these folks.


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